LIFE GOES ON

Or more appropriately, “Life is what happens when you are making other plans”.

Thirty three years ago today on June 26, 1976, I entered into a lifelong commitment with Barbara Ann (cue the Beach Boys here). More properly called a covenant relationship known as marriage.

Nothing has turned out as I thought it would. We talked of four children, we have three. Two here, one in heaven. The first two children are beautiful girls. Our oldest child is thriving in her own right, living and working in Germany and growing wiser every day. Our second daughter died in the seventh month of pregnancy from trisome 18 (everything a Downs Syndrome child has and more). Our youngest, a son, came to us in the second month of his life through adoption, or as my brother calls it, “the paperwork method”. He too is growing wiser every day but he lives at home and like many folks today, is looking for work.

It was always our intention to be married “until death do you part”. However, I have been taking it in stages based on my heroes in marriage, our parents. The first step was to be married as long as Barb’s parents before her mother died. We made that a few years ago. Then it was to be married as long as my parents before my father died. We make that mark today! Next up is being married as long as my father-in-law and mother-in-law. They were both widowed and found love again for 35 years before death once again did part. After that goal is reached, the magic number is 50. A number of our aunts and uncles have attained that mark so we look to their lives for inspiration and reason for matching their accomplishments.

This anniversary time is always bittersweet. Today we celebrate being married. Tomorrow we celebrate our second daughter’s feast day. While the pain of losing her will never go away, the joy of knowing she is resting comfortably in God’s loving embrace and the pleasure of her six grandparents sustains us.

Despite all the ups and downs through the years, Barbara Ann still loves me. Life is good.

Baptisms

At Mass this morning we had five children being baptized. Three infants and two siblings, ages three and five. Quite a crowd with all the parents, grandparents and Godparents and other family in attendance.

My wife and I were altar ministers and we had a great view of the Baptisms. As I was watching the action, I was busy guessing which children would be coming through the line where I would be giving Communion.

As the congregation comes through the communion line, I give a blessing to the children who are not old enough to receive the Body of Christ. I enjoy this because the parents love it and the children who are old enough, watch with great fascination as I make the sign of the cross on their forehead. Baptism days are even better because there is chance one of the new Christians will be coming through my line. And when they do, I get to be one of the first members of the church to give them a blessing.

In the midst of my elation this morning, I realized that my hero, Walt, wasn’t in line. Walt is an older, retired gentleman who is usually in the second pew and about the fourth person to receive communion. Walt has that look of wisdom and age about him. He also has a glint in his eye when he receives the bread that tells you he knows there is something very special happening.

I look forward to giving communion to Walt because his smile and that glint in his eye reminds me of the importance of what I am doing and that we are, indeed, the Body of Christ when we receive.

Pecking Order

There is a yearly phenomenon (occurrence) in grade school and high school. An eighth grader is finally at the top of the heap, king of the hill, top dog and no longer the little kid in school. “I am somebody!” as Jesse J. would say. The same is true for seniors in high school. But then, reality sets in the following school year and you start all over at the bottom. While I have seen this for years with my children and others as they went from junior high to high school and high school to college, it was brought up again at a new level in my current job.

I work with these wonderful little kids who range from infancy to three years old. They are in age groups of infant, wobbler, toddler and transition. The toddlers and transition kids are just like the eighth graders and high school seniors. They finally get to the status of top dog and then one day, they start all over in the next class room.

I remember eighth graders being real butt heads when I was in seventh grade. Of course, when my class became the eighth graders we were wonderful human beings. We didn’t pick on the younger kids nor do anything mean to them, unlike the classes before us.

With the toddlers, and this holds true for the transition kids, the older kids are very much into pushing and shoving and taking toys and attention away from the younger kids. But there is a God and this June, three of the toddlers reached the ripe old age of two and moved up to the transition class. Back to the bottom of the pile they go.

What I enjoyed about this discovery of the cyclical pecking order was listening to the teachers as they analyzed the kids last week while we were watching them on the playground. It was a consensus that a particular child was ready to move up and that doing so would put him in his place. There is another child who is already in the older class and she will be put in her place because of a younger child moving up. Already the class dynamics have changed. The cliques and groupings are different at two and three years old. It is not surprising then, that as kids enter junior high and high school that they are well versed in the art of taking charge.