It’s a blue Sunday.

Yesterday our youngest son, Trevor, graduated from Saint John Vianney College Seminary and the University of St. Thomas—summa cum laude, with degrees in philosophy and Catholic studies. We drove into the Twin Cities for the ceremony (a commute I made daily for work for more than a decade and we used to make regularly as a family for martial arts classes, concerts, and more). We went to Cecil’s Deli, one of Trevor’s favorite places, for a late lunch and then packed up his dorm. He said goodbye to his brother seminarians—a group of great young men from several dioceses with whom he has lived, laughed, learned, and prayed for the past four years. (Can it have been four years?). Then, we headed home.

Last night we were up late while Trevor sorted his belongings into three groupings: stuff he needs this summer, stuff to get rid of, and stuff to bring with us to North Dakota when we move. We had breakfast after Mass this morning; he wrote some thank-yous and checked the oil on our reliable blue Elantra—and at about 12:15 PM, he left the only home he’s ever known, likely for the last time.

It’s been a whirlwind week or so. Our older daughter Emma was married a week ago yesterday and moved to Sioux City with her husband Isaac, leaving the only house she remembers. (She was a baby when we arrived here.) Our older sons, Brendan and Brother Jude, along with Brendan’s family, were here for the wedding. Last time the family will gather here, our home for 23 years…

Thank you, Lord, for Lily. We’re not ready to be alone in this!

And it’s a season of “lasts”: The trip downtown yesterday felt like one; we rarely go into the Cities by choice anymore. Jodi and I recently got a kind email from Cindy at the church, who was preparing the next schedule for readers and extraordinary ministers of Holy Communion and realized we wouldn’t be here for it.

Have I already read my final time at Mass? I’m afraid to look.

And all of you have been so generous with your your hugs, handshakes, and offers of help; your kind words about our time and impact here in St. Michael and Albertville; everything. Even though we have another six weeks or so with all of you, every time we part from someone we’ve known here, it feels like maybe it’s the last time.

People keep saying we’ve done so much and complementing our children as they pursue their respective vocations. Years ago, an older, wiser friend of mine advised me to respond “Praise God” to the compliments I don’t know how to receive. So many times I’ve said, “Praise God.” So many times I’ve shook my head and said I don’t know why we’ve been so blessed.

“If I had been planning our life, or the lives of my children, I would have messed them up long ago.”

“God makes our folly fruitful.”

On Friday before Emma’s wedding, a new phrase popped into my head and hasn’t left:

“It’s grace by association.“

Grace by association: We are well regarded, or at least given the benefit of the doubt, because of the company we keep.

We are credited for our children, but they have eleveted and encouraged us as much as we have raised and nurtured them. We are “fixtures” in this parish, because friends and clergy challenged us to be. And of course we, like you, are only able to accomplish anything because, while we are still sinners, Jesus loves us. He makes our folly fruitful.

This morning during Mass, I was stressing. Now that the wedding and graduation are past, the move has our full attention, and there’s so much to do, it seems impossible to achieve in just six weeks.

As we were heading toward the exit afterward, we greeted Deacon Benda. He hasn’t been here long, and we didn’t know he knew us. But he asked us about the move and the timing, and, typical for me, I told exactly how I was feeling. He related the story of his and his wife’s most recent move, which was clearly God’s plan and came together in even less time—providentially, the right story for my morning. I needed encouragement, and the Lord was there.

This move seems so big, but for Him, it’s as a easy as a smile in our direction. And “grace by association” is the story of Christian life: All that we are, all we do, all we achieve are because we are His.