Rutgers alumni shares lessons learned about grief, gratitude

By Annie Nason

During my entire drive up to [Rutgers University] campus, the thought that something was wrong played over and over in my brain. I was in my final semester of graduate school, less than a month away from graduation and on my way to meet with my spiritual director, Laura Greey.

Over the course of the past three years, our time together was always a bright spot in my week. But I could not shake the feeling that our meeting wasn’t going to happen that day. No matter what was going on in my life, Laura had a way of knowing what I needed most whether it be a big hug, a space to cry or time to laugh and break open the stash of chocolate in her desk drawer.

My relationship with her was like having a second mom and a close friend, all wrapped into one. She was one of those people who helped me grow not only in my Catholic faith, but also as a person. Right after we met, Laura was diagnosed with cancer and generously shared much of her journey with me. I had just parked the car when my phone rang. It was Laura. My heart skipped a beat. Something was definitely up: “Annie, where are you? I’m about to come up to your office.”

She’s not here, I knew it, I thought to myself. “Where are you?”

“I’m not there. I’m in the hospital,” she replied.

My mind raced to process the next bits of what Laura told me. I was in shock, partly because of her medical emergency, but also because my intuition proved to be correct. Laura explained as quickly as she could that she had suffered a ministroke.

“Listen, I can’t talk long, but I knew you’d need a place to cry this out,” Laura said. “I told Brother Pat [Reilly, director, The Catholic Center at Rutgers] to expect a phone call. Go cry with him!”

That was truly one of the things I loved most about Laura; that even if we couldn’t be together physically, she was always making sure I was taken care of. This wasn’t the first time that the effects of her cancer kept us apart and I usually went to Brother Pat, a member of the Brotherhood of Hope, to vent about it. I came to understand through our conversations that what I was experiencing tions for a bit Brother Pat looked at me and said, “Annie, you have a choice here. You can choose to continue to be angry and frustrated by what is happening, but I can tell you it’s going to lead to a dead end. Or, you could choose to be grateful.”

I could not fathom how gratitude could be at all relative in a time like this.

“How in the world am I supposed to be grateful!?” I cried.

I knew I sounded stubborn, but I

How to report abuse

If you were sexually abused by a member of the clergy or anyone representing the Catholic Church, or you know of someone who was, you are encouraged to report that abuse to local law enforcement, the New Jersey Division of Child Protection and Permanency at 1-877-NJ ABUSE (652-2873) or 1-800-835-5510 (TTY/TDD for the deaf), and also the Diocesan Response Officer at (908) 930-4558 (24 hours/7 days a week).

“Someone I love is sick, and I miss her. I don’t understand why this is all happening, and I’m supposed to choose cated question could have such a simple

“Because her life has been a gift to yours, and there are times when God gives and God takes away.”

I stopped to ponder this. I didn’t want God to take her away. The prospect of losing someone who I cared about so deeply, scared me. My face must have said as much because Brother Pat looked at me and asked, “You’re going to throw that pillow at me, aren’t you?”

It was the first time I cracked a hint of a smile that night. All I had the energy to say in response was, “Bro, I’m not there yet.”

“Oh I know,” he replied. “I’m planting a seed of goodness.”

But I was extremely skeptical. My grief felt too big to have room for gratitude, too. When the news came a few weeks later that Laura’s cancer had in fact metastasized to her brain, I was heartbroken. This latest development felt like the equivalent of a hail storm pummeling that seed of goodness Brother Pat claimed to have planted during our conversation. I struggled with this for a long time.

While Laura continued her battle with cancer, my family experienced two tragic and unexpected losses of loved ones within 15 months. My eyes were opened quickly to how precious life truly is. Eventually, the realization hit that carrying around the amount of anger that I was toward two family deaths and Laura’s cancer didn’t change the fact that these events had occurred. I hated to admit it but Brother Pat was right, I was hitting that dead end. It wasn’t the grief that I had to release, but rather the anger that was warping my perspective. The choice to embrace gratitude became even more important to me as Laura’s health declined. I wanted to take in every bit of time between us with grace and gratitude. What were once hours long conversations between us became only a few minutes as she lost the ability to communicate, but we always ended with an “I love you.”

And, finally, I could understand it wasn’t about choosing grief or gratitude, but rather, letting both coexist. Because at their core, grief and gratitude are really the same thing... forms of love.

Annie Nason is a 2017 graduate of Rutgers who earned a dual degree in Public Health and Psychology and a Master’s Degree in Education there in 2019.

Laura J. (Apuzzo) Greey died July 22, 2022 at her home in Berkeley Heights. A surviving family member is Brother Kenneth Apuzzo, general superior for the Brotherhood of Hope community and former director of The Catholic Center at Rutgers. He now serves at the Catholic Campus Ministry at the University of Central Florida, Orlando.

Senior Care at Home

Senior Care at Home is the lower cost alternative to nursing homes or assisted living. Family Care Placement, LLC, provides live-in caregivers allowing them the comfort of their own home. We specialize in placing FILIPINO caregivers. All candidates are fluent in English with excellent References. For our personalized placement services, call Karen at 908-377-9375

By Kimberley Heatherington

(OSV News) -- What potential role do artificial intelligence programs have for the Catholic Church’s new evangelization? A great deal according to human -- and AI -- experts.

When asked by OSV News how ChatGPT, a free online AI program that can “talk” to users, can be “used in service of the mission of the Catholic Church, including education and evangelization,” the highly-advanced chatbot answered in the affirmative -- and gave a caveat.

“ChatGPT can assist in the mission of the Catholic Church by providing information and answering questions related to Catholic teachings, beliefs and practices, which can aid in education and evangelization efforts,” it stated. “Additionally, ChatGPT can assist with language translation and facilitate communication between individuals who may have language barriers.”

But at the same time, ChatGPT qualified its answer.

“However, it’s important to note that ChatGPT is just a tool and should not be relied upon as a sole source of information or guidance,” it added. “The teachings and guidance of the Catholic Church should ultimately come from qualified human experts, such as priests and other religious leaders.”

In other words, bishops, clergy and lay catechists are still as indispensable to the Church with AI tools just as they were when the Church started putting the Gospels to pen and paper.

ChatGPT (Generative Pre-trained Transformer) is an “artificial conversation entity” -- a chatbot -- that is technically a form of “natural language processing” technology. It uses machine learning algorithms and vast amounts of