On Lent and Being Part of Something Bigger

Yesterday was Ash Wednesday.  The first day of Lent and 40 days until Easter.  For many Catholics it's a big deal.  I love Lent and follow the traditions and guidelines set forth by the Church.  Let me first say that under no circumstances do I think that walking around with the absolute biggest cross of ashes I have ever received (Fr. Russ was on a roll with making sure they were visible!)  makes me a saint or any better than anyone else.  I do not eat meat on Ash Wednesday or any Lenten Friday.  Again, I don't think anyone is getting a ticket to hell if they have a burger on any of those days.  And I don't think it makes me any better than anyone else.  And really, there are so many days of the year I don't eat meat that it would almost be deliberate if I did eat meat.  Now the fasting on Ash Wednesday and Good Friday is a completely different story and is REALLY tough for me!!!

My husband and I observe the Lenten traditions and strongly encourage our children to observe them.  I think we need traditions and rituals to help us journey through this thing we call life.  I think we need time that is specifically set aside to focus on our God and our relationship with him.  I try to focus on my relationship with Him.  I am part of a bible study.  I read and pray and learn and try to grow.  I like learning what family and friends are doing to grow spiritually.  But taking these weeks before Jesus' passion to remember the ultimate sacrifice and then sacrifice something in my life to make me more aware of how I need my God in my life. It's not really about ashes or fish or giving up chocolate but it's about reminding ourselves daily that God gave all for us and trying in some tiny way to remember to live a life that more closely resembles the life we want to live or the life that Jesus lived while He was here.  So while I know people who think giving up meat on Friday is ridiculous, I say nothing is ridiculous if it makes you think of the sacrifice done for you and appreciate it just a little bit more.  Most parents I know appreciate their own parents even more after a sleepless night, a round of the flu, or writing a check for a prom dress or wrestling camp.  The same is true here, a little sacrifice on our part can help us appreciate the sacrifice God made for us.  That is the idea behind Lent.  Looking at our mortality, our weaknesses and our dependency are uncomfortable.  As a society we don't like to do that so I think that's why Lent can be so uncomfortable.

As I prayed before mass yesterday with my lifelong friend (really she's my twin sister so it is as lifelong as it gets!) kneeling next to me, I realized once again that one of the things I love about being Catholic is being part of something bigger than me.  I was doing the same thing that my mom did on Ash Wednesday for 78 years and that my dad has been doing for 83 years.  My grandparents before them. My great grandparents before them.  And back hundreds of years on this continent, in Europe, and in Ireland. It's comforting to me to be a part of something so long term. I feel closer to the people I have loved and have gone on to heaven before me.  During mass, I feel in a special way that I am once again doing something with those people and I love that.  Now not one of those people that I knew (so I am assuming the people who raised them were similar) ever agreed with every single thing a priest or bishop said or did.  I'd throw some popes into that list, too.  But the Church itself, the sacraments, the real presence in the Eucharist, those are things I treasure and cling to.  And things I treasure are worth staying a part of and making better and making sure they are there to pass on to the next generation.  And so I observe our traditions and I appreciate that the meaning is way deeper than meat, fish or ashes.

All Grown Up

As you know I have the privilege of being mom to 3. My baby is 17 and I am refusing to call him a young adult.  This has nothing to do with him or his maturity  (don't ask his siblings to verify that) but it is simply me digging my heels in and holding on to having a child still.  And it's also about me bucking the norms I see at work where too often 17 year old students and their families believe them to be grown and ready to make all their own decisions.  I can assure you that this often does not work out for the best.  So my 17 year old is still my child, my baby.  He has to let me know where he is, what he is doing at any time I ask or whenever the situation changes.  And yes this insistence gets me teased by all three kids. We laugh about it and yet it continues.   I'm Irish and German, if I am anything it is stubborn.

My 19 year old is half way through his first year of college.  He has successfully completed a semester of college classes while living out of state, playing football and working 8 hours a week.  However, I still think of him as my little boy. But we were on campus with him for his football banquet last night and it occurred to me on multiple occasions that he truly had grown up.  He's always been good about holding doors so while I appreciate it, I have come to expect it.    But while surrounded by coaches, teammates, and their families he voluntarily took my purse so I could hand my coat to my husband to take to the coat room.  He didn't even flinch.  At the end of the banquet, he looks at me and tells me that you and Dad have to get on the road before it gets any later.  While walking us to the car, I made a mom comment about something and he said, "I know, I live here."   It was such a strange mixture of a knife stabbing my heart and pride at the young man he's becoming.  When I told him that sounds strange to me, he agreed.  However, there were enough silly comments and laughter among his teammates through the night to remind me that my little boy is still in there and having fun is still a top priority.  

Then there is my daughter.  She is 21 so really there is no getting around whether or not she's an adult.  I spent the year she was 20 adjusting to that fact. Because really once you are past your teens, it's hard even for a mom to insist that you are not a young adult.  At 21 it's impossible.  But being a legal adult and truly being a grown up are two entirely different things.  She is in the process of applying for athletic training internships (say a prayer that she gets the one she just applied for please) and looking at graduate schools.  I am lucky enough to be asked to read essays that she writes for her applications.  I consider it a blessing just to be consulted in these things at this point in her life.  But I am so impressed by what I read.  Her insight and self-knowledge is beyond her years.  I am humbled and grateful when I read paragraphs about her growing up years.  I am amazed by the goals she has and the plans she is making to achieve those goals.   She is on track to make her dreams come true.  She knows what needs to be done, she knows it's up to her to work her tail off, push herself out of her comfort zone, and go after those dreams.   Yes, this one is a grown up, an amazingly beautiful person, and an excellent role model for her brothers. There is no denying that this young woman is a grown up.  I am proud to be her mother and now I am even prouder to call her my friend.  

The transition from 17 to 21 is a difficult one even if it is peaceful and without a lot of confrontation.  It is hard to go from child to adult.  It is hard to go from parenting a child to being a parent to an adult.  It is fun and interesting and always a unique experience.  It's a challenge and a rite of passage for all involved but one that is so worth the journey.