I have very fond memories, and a troubling one.
I was fortunate to be able to be in Rome on two different occasions during my 20s -- in the fall of 1980, and again in the fall of 1983. I have fond memories of attending papal audiences (and getting within a few feet of him as he walked down the aisle), of attending a Mass he celebrated in St Peter's Basilica on Christmas Day, of standing on a number of occasions in St Peter's Square during his noontime blessings, and even of going to different locations in Rome to watch him arrive at a liturgy or an event. The sense of vitality about life and about faith that he stirred within me and within others was palpable.
I was a teacher in a Catholic high school when he came to Denver for World Youth Day. While I did not attend that event, a number of my students did; and the following fall, whenever one of them brought in the theme song of that event for class prayer, I can recall the looks in their eyes as we listened to it. It was very clear that the event -- certainly the pope's presence at it, but also the power of that many people, especially young people, with a sense of common mission -- had a profound effect on them.
Yet these memories are tinged with sadness about the sense of what might have been, had he responded positively to the encouragement he was given to go in person, along with other religious leaders such as the Dalai Lama, to Baghdad in the weeks prior to the beginning of the US invasion in March, 2003. It seemed to me then -- and still does -- to have been a powerful opportunity to witness the this-world relevance of the Gospel in ways that his statements about a culture of life and his opposition to the unfolding of US policy alone could not do.
As I listen to, and share in, the current sense of worldwide sympathy and grieving at his immanent death, I also wonder what these days' experiences, memories, and sense of direction could have been had he made that trip and
helped to prevent that tragedy.