Reconciliation

Tonight Renton celebrated his First Penance. It's a momentous step because it's the first step in really becoming a grown up in the eyes of the Catholic Church.

This was one of those events that, in my mind, I visualized as a shining moment with my kids all polished and clean with freshly pressed clothes and rosy cheeks and bows in Emily's hair. I'd take lots of pictures and we'd remember the day for years to come.

Reality was slightly different.

Today was Wacky Wednesday at school. So the kids were dressed crazy and Renton had a head full of mousse and tiny ponytails. It snowed and there was a last minute emergency at work right when I needed to leave.

So here it was 6pm when I arrived at school to pick up the kids. We needed to transform Renton into church-ready clothes and hair, so we dunked him under the bathroom faucet and smoothed down his hair with our hands, threw on his dress clothes, still wrinkled from yesterday (Patriot Day) because there wasn't time last night to wash, dry and iron. Oh yah, and hand-me-down tennis shoes because I've just not gotten around to buying him real honest-to-goodness dress shoes.

We arrived at St. John's right on time, at 6:45, and shuffled into the pews. Emily was still in her "wacky" crazy frizzy hair, t-shirt, Irish Rugby shorts, and Christmas slippers. Micky was dressed in his Buzz Lightyear shirt that he refuses to take off, and had at least a days' worth of stains on it, goldfish crumbs still on his face and hands.

I looked around at the other parents and kids who looked put together, clean, and fed. Mine were starting to grumble along with their tummies because we hadn't had time for dinner yet and were waiting to hit CiCi's Pizza after church as a reward.

In this moment, my ex's horrible and persistent comments about how I was "unfit to be a mother", how I "couldn't handle being the sole custodian", how "stupid church and religion are" started flooding through my brain.

My kids did look tired and a little hungry and even though that made sense because it was the end of a long day (even Father Mossiman joked about his own shirt tails hanging out and collar being unbuttoned) I still felt some pangs of guilt. Was I doing the right thing? Was I bringing up my kids "right"?

And then, Micky knelt down next to me, took my hand, and murmured the Our Father. Emily walked over to a little girl who was crying out of nervousness, and put her arm around her to comfort her. And Renton came out of his first ever confession beaming because the priest had prayed for him to find peace, and Renton was confident that he would.

In that moment, I found peace.

We may not have been the most "put together" family, but I honestly didn't feel judged by anyone there. Not by anyone but the ghosts of mean words from a person wholly incapable of understanding goodness or family or likely even real love.

Tonight, Renton wasn't the only person receiving Reconciliation. And while we weren't shining and pressed on the outside, we were glowing and warm on the inside, and it was a day I am confident we WILL all remember for years to come.