Clyde: A Leap in Spring

-Brian Mendonça

Sometimes a star bursts in the firmament, shines brightly and then is gone.  Clyde was one such. 

Mass at the shrine of Our Lady of Fatima, Don Bosco, Panjim will never be the same again – without Clyde. My eyes used to search for him when we used to enter the church. Lately he hadn’t been coming. I wondered why.

It is amazing how one begins to expect to see certain people in certain places, even if we don’t know them.

As news trickled in, we learnt that there had been an accident. Clyde was hit. He was taken to hospital but did not survive. Later we came to know he had passed on. He was 52.

The last time I glimpsed him he was walking away from the shrine towards the city, his meagre belongings with him. It struck me as odd then.

I can see him before my eyes standing in his worn-out tee and shorts, in the first row hearing Mass, oblivious of the crowd. Totally mesmerized, he would be full of concentration till the very end of the service. Occasionally he would raise both his hands up in supplication and follow the prayers.

Clyde was not always like this.  His photo in the funeral announcement is of a dashing 29-year-old about to make his mark in life. The eyes were gentle even then. He was a kind soul, generous with his time. He taught students French and Geometry – as one WhatsApp obit put it.

Somewhere along the way Clyde’s brain became touched. At the peak of his life he began to lose his faculties. He ceased to be able to take care of himself. He needed help.  But he did not like to accept it. This was a difficult situation. But his family saw him through.

Clyde used to spend a lot of time on the campus at Don Bosco, Panjim. The Fathers cast a benevolent eye on him. It was his second home, as Cheryl, his twin sister put it. The family felt reassured that he would come to no harm here. 

From where I sat in the back rows for the funeral Mass at Don Bosco, Panjim I could just about make out Clyde’s face. He seemed at peace in his crisp suit and tie, his pallor a bit wan. When I saw him again from the front after receiving Communion, I noticed his mouth was a little open.  It contorted his face suggesting the pain he may have gone through.

For the Don Bosco School kids, Clyde was a regular feature for all the Masses. ‘God took him, because He wanted to take care of him,’ was Dwayne’s explanation.

As he lay there, and the time drew near to bear him away - at around 4 p.m. - a strange glow enveloped the shrine. The new lighting coupled with the sun streaming in through the stained glass panels bathed the space with a holy brilliance. 

The five priests who were con-celebrating the Mass were wearing the purple vestments of Lent, but Spring was in the air.

Clyde had made his leap of faith.

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Published in Gomantak Times Weekender, Panjim, Goa on Sunday, 15 March 2020. Image courtesy Molly Siddoway King at processarts.com/process-painting-through-grief/