Helen just left for her field hockey tournament- with no arguing. Now I am left here with just Zachary who is already showered and dressed (in a bright yellow Yoda shirt) and watching Mythbusters (is it weird that I find Adam Savage hot?). I have my coffee, my Curious George jammie pants and the lap top. Life is kinda nice.
Later today I will attend a First Reconciliation workshop with my son. He really has no concept of confession and penance. He barely grasps "forgive". I wonder if he is ready. Or are any of his peers. Most of the participants are second graders. I was personally 33 years old when I made my First Reconciliation, and I still barely get it!
Some of my readers either do not know how I became Catholic, or didn't know I wasn't raised that way. When I was 15, I went on a cruise with my parents. It was Easter so the ship held a Catholic Mass. I went with some boys I met during the trip (always found the boys, go figure). I was touched by the service and would have converted then if my parents would have let me. As the years passed, there never seemed to be a right time to switch. I started attending Catholic services when I moved to Maryland in 1996. I promised David's grandmother (also named Helen) that if he and I had children, they would be raised Catholic. I did not convert until I was pregnant with Helen.
I had to attend RCIA classes for about 9 months, filed for an annulment, tracked down my Baptism records (not easy, but easier than I thought it was going to be) and went to most classes while chasing a crawling infant. Thankfully on that aspect, there were many candidates and sponsors willing to hold and tolerate a wiggly active baby. I did my First Reconciliation with Helen on my lap. It was also my last. I am way over due. Maybe I will join my son on Monday.
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