Yesterday at Faith Formation, the kids were a bit wound up. This was our first class since Christmas break and they were full of P and V, as my dad would say. (That's Piss and Vinegar, for the laymen).
We are now working diligently to get them all ready for First Communion.
The biggest deal in the Church, really.
And so my co-teacher is going on about the importance of it all and this, that and the other. Kids are talking amongst themselves throughout her whole speech - about Pokemon, the Steelers loss and shopping at Justice. We remind them about going to Mass and this, that and the other.
Several kids informed us of the following:
"I haven't been to Church since last year." Nice.
"My dad doesn't go anymore." So?
"We only go on holidays." I have been guilty of this during my life.
"We can't go because I have a baby sister." My personal fave.
"If we are here to learn about God, why don't you just talk about Him?" Yeah. Because up to now, we've been here talking about knitting.
I think the road to May's First Communion will be a loonngg one.
As religious as my grandmother was/is, she was/is one of the most superstitious people I know. And therefore, so am I. When we were kids she was all about avoiding black cats as we walked to the bus stop, looking for 4 leaf clovers in grass (which she always found), always walking on the same side of something (say bread and butter if you were separated) and not opening an umbrella in the house.
I don't know if this led to my believing in ghosts at all but I do.
When I was a kid I had friends who believed too so we were Ghostbusters before it cool.
The house I lived in as a kid, I was convinced was haunted. By the same tall, thin man (think a sinister Rod Sterling with the black suit and skinny tie) that was in a recurring nightmare I had for many years. It was always the same as he chased me into my basement and around the corner and THEN...nothing. I woke up. Maybe he was just going to say "You Have Entered the Twilight Zone." Or maybe he was going to Hansel and Gretel me. Or maybe he was just going ask if I'd heard the one about the Priest, the Rabbi and the monkey in the bar...
Anyway, I seem to be a ghost magnet because the first house hubs and I bought had a "presence" and the one we live in now does. At least I think so, I don't have a TV crew coming in yet to film.
Our first house was built in 1927 and people were born there and people died there. It should have had a "presence". The one we live in now is younger than my oldest child so, not so much. But I swear there is something here with me. Doors are open, lights turned on, sounds are made. Doors that I always keeps closed and lights I always turn off and sounds when I'm here alone.
I don't feel scared so much as curious. But when Walks With Purpose and I are playing in her room and she tells me, "Shut the door so the Ghostsss and Monsteresss don't come in", I pause.
Just the other night I was up late watching TV and was coming back down stairs from checking on the kids and I swear to Pete I saw a flash of something small dash by the staircase. This was from the corner of my eye at approximately 11pm, but still.
So anyway, I turn 40 this year. I would never celebrate this birthday or any other one before the actual date. I could get hit by a bus, right? And so I get this calendar in my pack of Blue Moon (how many volumes does that speak) and I see that the actual Blue Moon is August 31st this year. What a great idea for a party, I think. And it could be a pre-birthday party for myself. So I then realize that the 31st is also Van Morrison's birthday. Well. There is my sign, as my grandma would say.
So I am having a bluemoon/VantheMan/Pre-40th party on August 31st and I can't wait.
Maybe I can get the Blue Moon beverage company to sponsor my insanity.
There is absolutely no coherent train of thought in this entire post but that is how my brain feels inside lately. So there you go.
But this makes sense.
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