Let’s talk about faith (faith-a, faith-a, faith-AHHH–baby!), shall we? You guys know that I’m Catholic, the product of a devout mom and a Christian-but-not-Catholic dad (I asked him once why he’d agreed to raise us in the faith if he didn’t believe in it. His response? “Because your mother wouldn’t marry me if I hadn’t.”). I took a long circle after my teenage years, kind of drifting my way away from Catholic Land (with the occasional visit back to see if the climate was still inhabitable) while I figured some stuff out, then coming back to it with a faith that was all my own, if that makes sense. And then I went and married a Christian-but-not-Catholic-and-never-gonna-be-Catholic guy myself.
Karma is a hilarious thing.
I think you also know that we send our kids to a Catholic school. We love the place, and even though we kind of get this wide-eyed blinky twitching action going in our faces when we realize that tuition for one kid will not be the same as tuition for three, we felt it was important to send them. Our girls–even as they see most of the other neighborhood kids climb off the local elementary bus each day with their friends, even as Saoirse runs around on the driveway after school, oblivious to her plaid uniform that nobody else wears–have always been happy there.
Last Friday–it’s Lent right now, or as I like to call it, Catholic Playoffs–and Saoirse and her classmates went to church for Stations of the Cross. If you’ve no idea what I’m talking about, let’s just say it’s a series of prayers meant to help you meditate on the journey of Jesus to his crucifixion. That means a lot of meditation. Slow, slow, slow, prayerful meditation, if you get my not-subtle drift (love ya, Mom!). Second graders normally don’t go to this, but I think they were learning about them, which is why they were there that day.
SK told us about this while we were at dinner on Friday (eating our meat-free meal, naturally, ’cause ABSTINENCE). She sighed when David asked her about her day. “We had to go to Stations of the Cross.” David laughed a little and asked her how it was. Saoirse shook her head. “It’s just–kneeling and standing, kneeling and standing, kneeling and standing. UGH.”
I tried so hard not to burst out laughing into my fish. All I could think was, our dads. I would’ve loved to have heard what our dads would’ve said.
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