At St. Thomas the Apostle, Hollywood, we have a book in which the names of loved ones who have died can be recorded. These people are prayed for every year on or near the anniversary of their death.

Every year in February, two names are called out that are very familiar to me: my father, Leslie Earle (George) Leatherwood, my father, and Noah Baird, the son of our dear friends in Texas.

I am always a little shocked when a familiar name is called. Most days the names are of people I do not know, or bear the last names of other parishioners I know. I can usually figure out if this was the mother, father, or perhaps sister or brother of one of my fellow members of St. Thomas.

So in February when my father’s name is read, I’m not surprised. I am very aware that my dad died on February 4, 1972. I saw him the weekend before he went into a coma on Tuesday night and he and I said our goodbyes to one another.

Noah’s name usually does surprise me, but I am pleased that it is always right after my father’s name. It makes me hope that my father and Noah have found each other in the afterlife and are looking down together on those they love.

Despite anyone’s religious preference or non-preference, there is something very comforting and right about formally remembering those we love who have died every year. I am happy to have that opportunity at St. Thomas.

So, to my beloved father and sweet Noah, peace be with you.  May light perpetual shine upon you.