Death and Dying: Sister Rita Heires Shares a Century of Wisdom
“I think my vocation sort of bubbled up,” says Sister Rita Heires, a retired Franciscan Sister of Perpetual Adoration (FSPA) living at St. Rose Convent in La Crosse. She was reflecting on a movie she watched in the sixth grade at school. The movie was about the Carmelite Sisters in Kansas. “It touched my heart, and I thought, maybe I could be a sister. It wasn’t something I decided on in a day or because of any particular example from my extended family or siblings. Sister Rita recalls being a high school senior on retreat and coming to the final decision, “Yes, I thought, this is what I will do.”
Family Chemistry
It has been over 80 years since Sister Rita decided to become a sister, and she is now celebrating 97 years of life. While vivid and rich, the recounting of her memories and stories here, from her upbringing in the small town of Carroll, Iowa, to her holy work serving God in the FSPA, provides only a small glimpse of the totality of Sister Rita’s lived experiences.
Sister Rita is the sixth of eight children, all raised in a loving Catholic family. She and her siblings attended St. Lawrence School from first through eighth grade. The girls in the family also went to St. Angela Academy, a fully-accredited all-girls Catholic school.
When Sister Rita graduated at the age of 17, she had already made the decision to devote her life to the sisterhood. This order was a natural fit for her, as her teachers, an older sister (Sister MaryWalter) and several cousins were in the FSPA in La Crosse. After a year of postulancy, she received her habit and a new name, Sister Marylita. In addition to taking classes to deepen her life as an FSPA, she attended Viterbo College for teacher training.
A Real Sister Act
Sister Rita’s first mission was in Greenwood, where the convent served as both a residence and a school. The parish priest, mindful of the financial hardships caused by communism in his native Yugoslavia, instituted a lights-out policy of 9:30 p.m. to save on electricity. This significantly reduced the time the sisters had for class preparation since they also served as teachers, janitors, sacristans, choir directors and overseers of the altar boys. “After my first year, I had no love for teaching, I’ll tell you that,” says Sister Rita with a chuckle. “I think it was a baptism by fire.” Nevertheless, Sister Rita willingly returned to Greenwood the next year to teach third, fourth and fifth grades once again.
Before professing final vows, she returned to St. Rose Convent in La Crosse to deepen her spiritual life and continue her college education. During the summers, she taught ESL in El Salvador and Prague and assisted with a summer school program in Canton, Miss., during The Meredith March Against Fear.
Befriending
Due to her father’s declining health, she requested to return home to Carroll, Iowa, to help her mother take care of him. Her father passed away two years later, in 1976. Sister Rita fondly recalls her mother as being ever-optimistic and grateful. “She would often say, ‘I have so much to be thankful for; I just can’t complain.’ And she never did,” says Sister Rita. “As her final days approached, she mentioned, ‘I think I’m dying.’ I thought she might have wanted to discuss something, so I asked if she was afraid to die. She replied, ‘Oh my, no! I just wonder what it will be like.’”
After her mother’s death in May 1987, Sister Rita returned to teaching at a junior high in Fort Dodge, but “it was the straw that broke the camel’s back,” she says. Retiring from her love of teaching, she accepted the position of treasurer for the FSPA province in Cedar Rapids for four years. After this final work assignment, she changed courses once again and began a new chapter as a retiree.
Returning to the parish where she worked in Cedar Rapids, Iowa, she became involved in various volunteer ministries, including RCIA, choir and distributing Communion to hospital patients and shut-ins. In addition, the parish had a program called “Befrienders,” which has the goal of walking with persons struggling with loss, grief, transition, trauma and more. The ministry also provided the opportunity to be present with people who were dying.
Pearls of Comfort and Wisdom
As the last living member of her family, Sister Rita has a wealth of experience and wisdom regarding life and death. Her sister, Sister Martin, was diagnosed with breast cancer and was living in St. Louis, Mo. Only a few months later, Sister Rita received the news that her sister didn’t have much time left. Sisters Rita and MaryWalter scheduled a flight out of Chicago to be present with her, but the departure was delayed due to a plane repair. When Sister Rita called to check on her sister, the doctor informed her that Sister Martin had just passed away. Sister Rita said, “She was such a part of my heart. That was very difficult for me, but in another sense, I felt relief,” referring to the end of her sister’s suffering.
During this time, Sister Rita and Sister MaryWalter stayed with her brother and sister-in-law in Maryland while the funeral was being arranged in Philadelphia. “I spent the night on a roll-away bed in my brother John’s office, but I woke up in the early morning and couldn’t fall back asleep. So, I put on one of my brother’s tight-cuff-sleeved sweatshirts, grabbed my prayer book, and went out to sit by their lovely pool in the backyard,” she says. “I asked God, ‘Please let me find something that will bring solace to my soul.’” When Sister Rita looked more closely at her book, she saw that it looked like there was a pen in it. She recalled having a pen that had a pearl-like bauble at the top and scolded herself because she used to reprimand her students for putting a pen in a book so as not to damage its spine. “I took the rubber band off the book and out rolled a pearl,” she says. “I knew it wasn’t a real pearl, but I heard from my sister, ‘I have found the pearl of great price!’”
A Room Full of Angels
The following year, Sister Rita’s younger brother Al, at age 64, was diagnosed with Lou Gehrig’s disease and suffered greatly. “He and I were very close,” says Sister Rita. “When I was leaving from a visit with him in Omaha, Neb., he hugged me so tightly. He was so thankful I had come, which meant a lot to me.”
The two siblings had talked many times. Sister Rita recalls him frequently saying, “I don’t know what God has in mind for me, but I can take it.” “He had a lot of experiences with death and dying, too,” she empathizes. He died three weeks after their visit.
In 2009, Sister MaryWalter was living at Villa St. Joseph Retirement Home and was suffering from health issues and memory loss. On one occasion, when Sister Rita and Sister MaryWalter were visiting in her room, Sister MaryWalter asked, “How is Paul doing?”
Sister Rita lovingly responded, “Don’t you remember that we went to his funeral?” She pointed to his memorial card on her bulletin board and mentioned the date. Sister MaryWalter looked at Sister Rita and asked, “Did he have a reservation?”
“Of course he did,” Sister Rita replied. Then Sister MaryWalter asked about their sister-in-law, who had died just a few months prior: “Did Judy have a reservation, too?” “Of course she did,” said Sister Rita softly. “And you have a reservation as well. Your room is full of angels, and when it’s time, you just take hold of your angel’s hands and go right into heaven.”
Sister Rita admits she didn’t quite understand why Sister MaryWalter asked this. “I shared this conversation with my spiritual director,” she says quietly. “He said, ‘Of course! Jesus said, I go and prepare a place for you. Where I am, soon you will be.’”
Only Providence
Sister Martin and all of Sister Rita’s brothers had served in the military. Their brother John had traveled the world and, after retiring, moved to Denver to be closer to his daughters, Val and Sue. John had cerebral atrophy and required extra care. During the COVID-19 pandemic, a resident at Sister Rita’s residence was making lap quilts and offered to make one for her. She agreed and thought about sending one to John but kept delaying it. Finally, she packed up the quilt in a box along with a large picture of their mother and a handwritten letter to send to John.
The package was scheduled to arrive on Tuesday. Val called Sister Rita to say that John had about four to five days left. Sister Rita told Val that she had sent a package and should have received it that day, so Val went to check for it. In the meantime, not knowing what else to do, Sister Rita decided to go to the chapel to pray and brought her cell phone. After about an hour, the cell phone buzzed. It was her niece calling to tell her that John had just died. Val explained that they had received the package and had read the letter to John. They showed him the picture and noticed an eye twitch. Then, they put the prayer shawl around him. “Val said it wasn’t even 10 seconds later when he died,” said Sister Rita. “Val was perplexed by this experience. I told her it was a mystical moment.”
“This experience gave me a lot of joy and comfort,” says Sister Rita. “John would say many times that there are no coincidences.”
How to Walk With the Dying
What can we do to deal with our grief or assist those who are facing the end days of their lives? How can we support those nearing the end of life while managing the grief that death brings? Sister Rita, who has nearly a century of experience accompanying the dying, offers profound insights. “Be present with people,” she advises. “Ask them what they would like.” She recalls holding the hand of a fellow sister, only to hear, ‘That’s not a comfort to me.’ Grateful for the honesty, Sister Rita responded, ‘I’m so glad you told me.’ On another occasion, she offered to pray with a woman who declined, choosing instead to pray in her own way. Sister Rita’s reflections remind us of the importance of being fully present, asking what brings comfort, and truly listening to honor the unique wishes of each person in their final days.
“If people say they don’t need anything, then just appear. I think when they really do need something, you’ll know it by their reaction. We’re very independent characters. To be in need is a really hard thing for most people. After I dress my bed in the morning, I just have to sit down because my back is killing me. I told my physical therapist that it’s about as much as my back can take. He told me, ‘Well, sister, at the age of 97, you ought to be able to get some help,’” she says with a laugh, “but I’m just too stubborn.”
When someone has passed away, friends and family often come to the home and bring food. Sister Rita advises that when you give them the food, let them keep the dish so they have to come back to return it. This gives you the chance to talk with them and let them share their stories and feelings. When you visit someone who is grieving, try to keep your words brief to give them space to talk. It’s important for them to have the opportunity to work through their grief by expressing their emotions. It’s also not helpful to say “I know just how you feel” because everyone’s experience of grief is different.
A Communion of Saints
“Death is bittersweet,” she says. “It’s sweet because the person is relieved of their pain and suffering, but bitter because the loss creates a large hole in one’s heart. There’s no denying the hurt, but it’s like a bad sore—it can take a long time to heal.” Sister Rita also suggests gently encouraging the grieving to go places together. “Being able to be with others once again allows the heart to begin its healing.”
“I’m 97 years old,” she declares, “but death does not frighten me. I do wonder how many more days I have left; maybe many, maybe few. I have a bulletin board in my room full of all the pictures of my family. This is a communion of saints. Knowing that I will see them and be with them again makes me smile. So, if I should die before I wake, I trust in an eternity of peace and happiness, realizing I, too, have a reservation for the eternal communion of saints.”
Story by Marcy Stenstrom
Published in the November/December 2024 issue of Catholic Life Magazine