Father Anthony J. Chiaramonte - "Our Tony"

 I mean no disrespect when I call you Tony, but then again, I know you know that.  You shared yourself with us in such a personal way and we knew each other on a heart to heart level.  Your presence in our lives and at our table was an immense blessing; one for which we are forever grateful. 

I need to talk about you. I need to share this little story.  You, yourself, were the best story teller of all; anyone who ever heard one of your homilies can attest to that!  Before the advent of life-streaming the Mass at Christ Our Light, I sat in church, pen and paper in hand, to capture your salient points and your words of wisdom.  I was always excited when you were the one to speak!  I anticipated your down-to-earth stories and the generous way you shared your true self with the congregation.  When we first asked you to join us for dinner at our home and you said, yes" I felt honored and privileged. And then you became a 'regular' guest at our house; you said "yes" to our invitations again and again. You celebrated our "BIG" birthdays with us and we celebrated a few of yours; you even treated us to dinner at Grappa 72 for our 50th Wedding Anniversary.   I'm notorious at extending very last minute invitations, but you never took offense and if you were free you would say "yes". You got to meet many family members and friends and you always fit in perfectly.  You became family to us, you let us be our real selves - messiness and all -  and we fell in love.     I often thought "How blessed can we be" to have a friend like Tony?  In the last year or so, when we'd say, "How are you doing, Fr. Tony?" you'd answer, something along these lines, "Barely hanging in there" or " I'm just about making it".   I began to hold my breath as I watched you step down from the altar as I noticed a little unsteadiness. I even expressed my concern that he was doing too much.  After all, he was in his 80's, and was our Eucharistic Minister for almost all our Masses and Funerals.  Everyone called on Fr. Tony for just about everything and it seemed he always said, "yes".  He answered my concern for him, and his answer gave me comfort.  Basically he said he wanted to say, Yes" and that he liked what he was doing.  

The words below were written the day I got the terrible news that our friend Fr. Tony never made it to the 10am Mass because he had died as a result of a fall the night before.

At about 3:50 pm yesterday afternoon, Saturday October 15th, 2022, Father Tony came out of the Reconciliation Room and walked over to Bob and me as we sat at our little desk behind the last pew in church. Bob was setting up a laptop to livestream the 4 pm Mass and I had the other laptop ready to go with the PowerPoint containing the prayers and hymns for the 29th Sunday in Ordinary Time.

Out of the blue, Bob turns to Fr. Tony and says, “ I noticed your halo as you were walking out of the back room. “ I look at Bob in a baffled sort of way as I’m thinking “what the heck is he talking about ?” I think Father Tony might have been a bit baffled too but he started to joke around in his usual congenial way. And then I pick up on the train of the conversation and say something like “well we all know what an angelic guy you are”. Then Fr. Tony reminisces about an incident that happened many years ago when he was a Chaplain in Oneonta. He said that one of the coeds at the school told him she noticed a special aura around him as she saw him up at the altar. I sensed he was a bit embarrassed and humbled by her statement.

I really didn’t know what caused Bob to share this halo story until after Mass. I asked him what he was talking about when he said he saw this halo around Fr. Tony’s head ( Bob isn’t the type of guy who typically talks about things like a halo or auras) and he explains to me that when he saw Fr. Tony walking towards him a ray of sunshine came through the window and surrounded his head. Interesting that this happened within hours of his death. As far as I’m concerned and I’m guessing as far as most of the parishioners of Christ Our Light are concerned Father Tony did have an aura about him.

One time during a reconciliation service I sat watching Father Tony as one by one parishioners came forward to express their sinfulness and ask for forgiveness. He laid hands on them, he embraced them, he looked lovingly and gently at them and I had the feeling that Christ was alive and radiating through this holy, beautiful man as I had never, ever experienced Christ before in my life. 

 On my way out of church the day Fr. Tony died I was in a bit of a rush, so when I saw a woman holding onto her walker standing in front of Tony in what appeared to be a rather lengthy conversation, I decided not to wait.  As I whizzed by in my haste, he touched my shoulder in greeting and I said, "Hi!" What I would give to have had that final hug, those final words. Nothing describes Fr. Tony better to me than these words from 1 Corinthians:

Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails.