You are visitor number since September 8, 2001.
A funeral Mass for Andrew M. Cormack, 18, son of Marty and Ginni Cormack of Eyota, will be 10:30 a.m. Thursday at Resurrection Catholic Church in Rochester, with the Revs. Donald Schmitz and James Cormack, CM, officiating. Burial will be in Resurrection Cemetery in Mendota Heights, Minn.
He died Sunday (Aug. 26, 2001) at Seasons Hospice in Rochester of complications of Duchenne muscular dystrophy.
Born Dec. 5, 1982, in Rochester, he grew up in Rochester and would have been a senior at Mayo High School this fall. He was a five-year member of the Rochester Raiders adapted floor hockey team and enjoyed working with computers.
Survivors also include a brother, Eric T. at home; and grandparents, Chuck and Aggie Bleise of St. Paul, and James Cormack of Westmont, Ill.
Friends may call from 5 p.m. to 8 p.m. Wednesday at Macken Funeral Home in Rochester and an hour before the service Thursday at the church. There will be a prayer service at 7 p.m. Wednesday at the funeral home.
Memorials may be made to Rochester Raiders adapted floor hockey team or Seasons Hospice.
Rev. James Cormack, CM, Msgr. Donald Schmitz, Rev. Leroy Eikens
Pat Cormack SCSC, cantor, Dawn Cormack, piano, Richard Cormack, guitar, James Cormack, Kathie Cormack, Mark Cormack, Eric Cormack, Julia Nick, Elizabeth Cormack
The souls of the just are in the hand of God, and no torment shall touch them.
They seemed, in the view of the foolish, to be dead; and their passing away was thought an affliction and their going forth from us, utter destruction. But they are in peace.
For if before men, indeed, they be punished, yet is their hope full of immortality;
Chastised a little, they shall be greatly blessed, because God tried them and found them worthy of himself.
As gold in the furnace, he proved them, and as sacrificial offerings he took them to himself.
In the time of their visitation they shall shine, and shall dart about as sparks through stubble;
They shall judge nations and rule over peoples, and the LORD shall be their King forever.
Those who trust in him shall understand truth, and the faithful shall abide with him in love:
Because grace and mercy are with his holy ones, and his care is with the elect.
The word of the Lord.
Behold, I tell you a mystery. We shall not all fall asleep, but we will all be changed,
in an instant, in the blink of an eye, at the last trumpet. For the trumpet will sound, the dead will be raised incorruptible, and we shall be changed.
For that which is corruptible must clothe itself with incorruptibility, and that which is mortal must clothe itself with immortality.
And when this which is corruptible clothes itself with incorruptibility and this which is mortal clothes itself with immortality, then the word that is written shall come about: "Death is swallowed up in victory.
Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O death, is your sting?"
The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law.
But thanks be to God who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.
The word of the Lord.
Jesus said to the Apostles, "Do not let your hearts be troubled. You have faith in God; have faith also in me.
In my Father's house there are many dwelling places. If there were not, would I have told you that I am going to prepare a place for you?
And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back again and take you to myself, so that where I am you also may be.
Where I am going you know the way."
Thomas said to him, "Master, we do not know where you are going; how can we know the way?"
Jesus said to him, "I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me."
The Gospel of the Lord Jesus Christ.
Andrew is dead. Because of that we mourn and grieve. There is palpable sadness with us today.
Andrew has grown fully now, and he lives at one with God. For that reason we celebrate. Honestly even in our grief, we celebrate. It is our faith that tells us that he has the fullness of life now.
With our faith as our backdrop, I would like to take some time to reflect on what Andrew has taught us about life, and what our faith teaches us about life.
Andrew lived his life with a debilitating disease, muscular dystrophy. It clearly marked and shaped his life, his family's life, He had a disease that diminished his physical capabilities. Was it a handicap? Oh it certainly had consequences; it often meant difficulty, difficulty doing even simple things, it meant surely that he would die a very young man. So don't hear me missing this or minimizing this harsh truth. But, Andrew had his life, not mine or yours. As I reflect on his life, as my life pushes 52 years, I wonder if I will ever learn his courage, or his patience. Marty and Ginni and Eric didn't and won't have some normal memories from Andrew's life, rather they have others, Andrew's memories no less real no less full.
Are there handicaps in heaven? Oh be careful now, it would be wonderful to make heaven the great Shangri-La, But our faith does not tell us that heaven is all earth is not. Then why live? No, we live now, as God plans and Jesus teaches, so that one day when we are finished growing and live at one with God. At one with God, no separation from ourselves and our maker and source. Our faith shows us and gives us reason to live life as it is. And to live life fully, with no compromises. It reminds us that some lucky few don't get "real" life, with no problems, diseases, or pain, and then all the rest of us just a little less.
It is a great mystery, our living. God gives us our lives, our gifts, our challenges. We grow into what we are. And sometimes life is tragic, as with Andrew and his disease of muscular dystrophy. And sometime life is flawed, as when we sin and choose to live self absorbed and selfishly. And sometimes life is just joyous, as when we even though challenged learn to live and love with unselfish love.
It is our faith in God, in salvation won for us in Christ Jesus, in the fullness of life that allows us to really live. We don't wait for heaven to become what we are not. Here, now, we learn to become all we are.
I imagine that when I meet Andrew again, he will be fully Andrew, and alive fully in God, and all he was, he will be-fully. Not some improved version, just fully alive, and fully alive in God.
Our faith lets us take life, as it is, not as we would have it, but as it is, with all its wondrous, tragic and messy mystery and live. Our faith let's us take life as we are, and really live.
You know over the last few weeks I have squandered some cash buying Powerball tickets, and as you know I didn't win. I loved the chance to dream about what good I could do with all that money. But I didn't win, and you know, so what! My life wouldn't begin if I won Powerball; my life with a Lamborghini would, but not my life.
Andrew has taught us about life, and how to live it. Our faith reminds and calls us not miss the truth that Andrew so bravely taught us. Andrew from his coffin says to us. Believe, Trust, Live.
Andrew
How do I know you Andrew? I know you as a classmate, a teammate, and a special friend. I thank God that you have been a part of my life.
I will always remember the smile on your face when I brought you cookies and read jokes to you. I’ll never forget the state hats and pom poms your mom and dad gave as gifts, or the echo in the gym of "Ice! Ice! Ice!"
You taught me how important every minute of our life is and learned what it is to be brave in the last hours. God knew what he was doing when he put you in the arms of your mom and dad. The care and the love they have given you is priceless. I know if I’m ever spinning in circles that my mom or dad would come running out to pull off the tray for me, too.
Andrew you have proved that muscular dystrophy is so limited:
And you have shown us that it cannot lessen the power of the Resurrection. Andrew, although wishing you were with us, I am asking for you to be our guardian angel and watch over us as we each play our hardest this season and dedicate it to you.
I feel if you could give a message to us players left behind you would say:
Please don’t be sad or worry about me, for I am in the best place I could be.
I can’t wait until we all meet again to play a game of ice hockey that never ends.
As you see where I am now, I am perfect in mind, body, and soul.
I first met Andrew three years ago. He was a member of the Rochester Raiders adapted floor hockey team. It was in this capacity that I had the privilege to interact with and learn from Andrew. I know I was supposed to be the coach, but I learned more from Andrew than he could ever have learned from me.
I remember our first practice together. I was unsure of Andrew’s abilities to use his wheelchair. In fact, I was unsure of a lot of things. I was trying to learn about the kids’ strengths and weaknesses and as a result had Andrew doing spins, figure eights, obstacle courses, and was generally working his tail off. I thought I was helping. I didn’t know that his condition could be worsened by excess exercise. Marty helped educate me after practice... thank God. Andrew never complained during this practice or during any other for that matter. That was my first lesson. Andrew never complained! And he had reason to complain! Of all the athletes I’ve coached in floor hockey, football, ice hockey, or any other sport for that matter, Andrew had the most right to complain. He never did. I would have. He never did. He accepted what life had to offer and instead of complaining, he put his energies into more worthwhile endeavors. Complaining wasn’t going to change his situation, and I never heard him complain. I loved that about him. His quiet strength. His indomitable spirit. As the commercial says, he just did it.
To illustrate this fact I will tell a story that I know all the Raider’s fans must be familiar with by now. The name of the story is Andrew’s Goal.
Adapted floor hockey is a varsity sport opportunity for kids who, because of either a physical or neurological disorder are unable to play regular varsity sports. As a high school adapted floor hockey coach, I have the opportunity to work with many fine young people who, by the very nature of their disorders, have overcome great obstacles to participate in athletics. However, one team experience this past season will stay with me forever as one of the truly great triumphs of the human spirit.
It was the last game of the season and our Rochester Raiders adapted floor hockey team was winning. They were playing wonderful hockey on both offense and defense. We were leading at the end of the second period 6-0 against a team we had never beaten in their home state of Wisconsin. Our team had come so far this season. We started out losing our first four games, one due to a forfeit. However, our team never gave up. We continued to practice with gusto, changing what wasn’t working and keeping what did. We finally won our first game toward the middle of the season, and then, because we knew that we could be much better, we worked harder to improve. We lost the next two games after that first win, but with each game we continued to develop our skills. The players began to believe in themselves and know that they could win. In the last half of the season we had gone 3-0 defeating the number two and three ranked teams in the state. The players had enjoyed a measure of success and as they say success breeds success. We continued to improve and this game was no exception. We had our first shutout of the year going, and we weren’t about to let up. I had told the kids the story of Wilma Rudolf before the game and how she overcame a paralyzed left leg only to learn to walk, and run, and eventually go on to win three Olympic gold medals in track and field. The point.. to never give up, to constantly improve. The players were believers.
I scrawled a couple of plays on the white board and reinforced the things they were doing right and provided some instruction regarding how they could improve. I also wrote out the scoring by periods; two goals in the first, four goals in the second, a blank for the third period. I suggested we should make it our goal to try and score six goals in the third period. A few of the players chimed in that we should try and get everyone a goal. It was at this point that Ben Pehllng, our best player and tremendous senior leader, took the marker from my hand and wrote a name at the bottom of the board. It said simply, "Andy."
What makes this so amazing is that Andrew Cormack is in an electric wheelchair because he suffers from muscular dystrophy. Because of his illness he has very limited use of his muscles. In fact, because Andrew cannot use his arms very well, he chooses not to use a hockey stick. Some kids in similar situations to Andrew’s place a stick under their chairs so that even though they can’t physically control the stick, it’s still there. In those instances, the player can’t shoot with the stick, but they can block shots with such a setup. Andrew prefers to wheel his way in front of shots and cover the pucks in front of our net from his defensive position, and he does so quite well. Because Andrew chose not to use a stick, Ben’s decision to put Andrew’s name down at the bottom of the board seemed, at best, a remote possibility. For Andrew to score, he would have to wheel his way into position in front of the opposing team’s net. Then, one of our other players would have to bank a shot off his chair and into the goal. Although we had thought of it before, we recognized the shot as nearly impossible. In fact, we had tried unsuccessfully to get Andy a goal in a scrimmage earlier in the year. It proved to be a formidable mission, but the players were believers and they weren’t going to give up until they had succeeded. Who better to accomplish this feat than the person who had just written Andy’s name on the bottom of the clipboard.
The third period opened up with two goals from two different players on our team. Andrew still remained at his defensive position, blocking shots and preserving the shutout. However, the time had come. Sitting on the bench, Ben leaned over to me and whispered, "What about Andy?" He was right. It was time. "Andrew!" I yelled. "Go to the side of the net and score a goal!" I sent Ben back in for the firepower. There was a calm resolve on Ben’s face. He was NOT going to fail. I glanced at Andrew and behind his mask I saw the same determination. He wasn’t going to stay at his defensive spot. He was going to score a goal.
Our team won the face off and worked it down into the opposing team’s corner. Paul Watson made a great pass behind the net to Josh Ziesmer who had been instrumental in scoring and assisting on many of our goals throughout the game. Ben positioned himself on the blue line for the shot as Andrew moved his wheelchair into position on the side of the net. Josh’s pass was a perfect one, right to Ben’s stick. With a flip of the wrist, Ben sent a shot hurtling toward a perfectly positioned Andrew Cormack. I held my breath...and like a well placed billiards shot the puck careened off of Andrew’s chair right into the back of the net. The team exploded as Ben ran over to hug Andrew and congratulate him on his first career goal. Andrew Cormack, grinning from ear to ear, proudly wheeled his chair back to his defensive position which he had played so well throughout the game.
We added another goal late in the game. In addition, we kept the other team from scoring which preserved our shutout and made the final score 10-0. When the final buzzer rang, I had tears in my eyes as I realized the true heroes this day were a senior leader by the name of Ben Pehling, and a ninth grade leader in the making, Andrew Cormack. They believed that anything was possible, including a goal scored by the young man whose name was written on the bottom of my white board and underlined in Ben’s hand, "Andy."
The lesson...you can do anything you set your mind on accomplishing. Andrew certainly proved that.
Andrew was a leader. He was the best kind of leader. He led by example. He did everything I asked him to do and then some. He was an incredible defender. He blocked more shots than Patrick Roy. How he became so remarkable I will never know, but he was. The lesson...lead by example. Contrary to all the trash talking of high priced professional athletes today, Andrew didn’t talk about what he did. He just did it. Poor David Baldwin knows how well he did it. He robbed him of more than one state tournament goal. The pro’s could do with a lesson in humility from Andrew.
Andrew was more than just a great defender on the floor. He was a great person. He was so patient. When I was trying to learn how to help care for him on our away trips, he would walk me through all the procedures and never once got frustrated or upset with me as I’m sure I would have done. He taught me all about Star Trek and even though I asked him a thousand questions about warp drive and so on, he never got annoyed. He’d just calmly explain. Another lesson...patience.
I remember after one of our practices I was talking with Marty and Andrew about the divorce rate of couples who have children with disabilities. I asked why. Why was the rate so high? Andrew wisely stated from his chair in the back of the van...they just give up. Andrew didn’t ever give up. He was all heart. MD may have taken his body from us, but it didn’t take his spirit. It is a spirit that will live on in each one of us.
The last time I talked with Andrew he taught me about life. He was dying, but he taught me about living. He told me he was tired. He was tired of the coughing, and he was tired of the feeding tube. He was physically tired. He isn’t anymore. We can be comforted in the fact that Andrew will never get tired anymore. He’ll be able to run, to jump, and to fly because there’s no question that kid went straight to heaven. We’ll miss him, but we must take heart at his final lesson...live! Live each day to the fullest. Be thankful for what you have, and treat others with dignity and respect and someday we’ll see him. We’ll see him scoring goals in heaven.
Rev. James Cormack, CM
Andrew gave us spirit.
We focused on him.
His words always encouraged us to be ready for state and be our best.
Andrew is the best.
We will miss him.
