I am now the mother of a teenager

The first week of school is over. The hectic month of August is over. Time to get back to writing.

Within the past month, I have become the mother of a teenager. Logically and physically I know how this event has happened, but mentally I can't understand it. I'm not suppose to have a teenager. I know this sounds really odd, coming from someone who didn't have children until she was in her thirties. I still like to think I can act like I did when I was in college. How can I possibly have a child old enough to be a teenager?

Thirteen years passed along quickly. It seems like just yesterday that we took her to Disney for the first time. She was 2. She was short, really thin and still was shaky when she walked. Today she is over five feet, really thin and has legs that seem to move at one pace, a run. The child doesn't just walk into a room. She bounds into a room, much like Kramer on Seinfeld.

I was hit with a double whammy this month. My youngest daughter, Jane, is no longer a little kid. When I went to sign her up for park district classes, I noticed that she now part of that intermediate level between kid and teen. I'm told she isn't a tween until she hits 10, but all the park district classes begin new age ranges at 9. I don't even have a little kid at home.

I am fortunate that my daughters are good kids, smart and creative. I thank God for them every night. I just hope that I can help them grow up to become good, intelligent and creative adults.

Where is Everyone?

This blog was suppose to be my views on being a parishioner in a Catholic parish. All summer long I feel as if I have no material on which to write. Our parish seems to disappear during the summer. I find it odd. I would think most people don’t take three months of vacation from their jobs. Sometimes, my mind works overtime, and I think that a big aircraft hovered over the parish campus and beamed up all the people in the vicinity. Although, if that happened, I think it would have made the local newspapers.

I’m an Eucharistic Minister. Usually we are assigned to minister one or two Sunday masses during the month. In the summer, I perform the duties of Eucharistic Minister almost every Sunday because the assigned people aren’t present. My daughter is an altar server, she has served almost every Sunday. Neither of us mind serving because we both enjoy participating more fully in the mass. I usually tend to arrive about 10-15 minutes before mass. The last several weeks, there have been only 2 or 3 people in the pews when I arrive. Even right before mass starts, one looks around and wonders where all the people are. Of course, it amazes me that at Communion, there is a fairly steady stream of people coming towards the altar. I’m not quite sure when they arrive.

If you look in our weekly bulletin, there is almost nothing happening in the parish during the summer. There is a sports program for children run by our wonderful physical education teacher. We don’t have a vacation Bible school. July and part of August is about the only time that the Council of Catholic Women takes a break. Although, I forgot the CCW book club is in a couple weeks. Our parish, in general, seems to have given up on any adult education opportunities in the evening for working people. So, there isn’t a lot of opportunity to see others outside of mass.

Doesn’t it seem odd? I don’t remember this when I was a child, but then again summers are different when one is a child. I just wonder where everyone is, and why aren’t I there too?

We did get a new associate pastor, Fr. M. He seems nice. My husband was happy that Fr. M didn’t give a long homily. We have a couple priests who seem to like the sounds of their own voices. My husband is part of a toastmaster’s group and it drives him crazy to hear the poorly put together homilies that run on too long. Even my youngest daughter who has no patience at all in mass (she’s usually asking “Is it over?” about 2 minutes after mass starts) thought the priest was ok. I haven’t met Fr. M yet because nothing is going on at the parish, except for mass. He’s always outside chatting after mass, but now he is bombarded by those parishioners who are big talkers. I’m hoping that once the parish is back to being active in the fall, I will have a chance to meet Fr. M.

New priest

This week we get a new associate pastor, Fr. M. I wonder what people would like to see in an associate pastor. I know I would like someone who can give a decent homily. I would also like to see someone who is open to hearing all people in the parish. I don’t want someone who buys in to the country club atmosphere of our parish. I want someone to stand up when the parish needs help (help in the time and talent sense), and say we need the help of everyone, not just the 40 or so people that the staff feels comfortable asking for help. I want the priest to go out of his way to meet the quieter people, not those who are in your face. I know I am asking for a lot, but there is always some kind of hope when someone new arrives. Of course, I have learned not to expect much.

After Eve

We saw Evan Almighty last week. In it, Evan mentions that Noah, his wife and sons built an ark. I don’t remember Noah’s wife building the ark. Genesis just seems to indicate that Noah’s wife and the wives of his son got on and off the ark. I tend to think that the ark doesn’t get built if left to Noah and his sons alone. There are households like men where the men aren’t particularly handy. Also, the men I know don’t tend to finish projects on a real timely basis. The ark would be about ¾ of the way done and they would come up with the next project. Another of my favorite circumstances during projects is the long discussion about how to do the project. So, I think that Noah’s wives and daughter in laws probably had the task of keeping the boys focused on the project.

Between Eve and Noah’s wife, a couple other women are mentioned. We find out Cain has a wife and she bears Enoch. Later, we learn Lemech has two wives, Adah and Zillah. Adah gives birth to Jabal and Jubal. One is the ancestor of all who dwell in tents and the other of all who play the lyre and the pipe. Zillah gives birth to Tubalcain, the ancestor of all who forge instruments of bronze and iron. Tubalcain has a sister named Naamah. The Bible does not indicate if Naamah is Zillah’s daughter.

Before Noah’s wife makes her appearance, Eve has another son. We also learn that men and women like each other and bear children.

St. Aquilina

What were you doing when you were 12? I was in 6th and 7th grade, going to school, reading books and probably thinking about high school. In 7th grade, I made my confirmation, so there may have been some thoughts about becoming a “soldier of Christ”. When St. Aquilina was 12 in 293, she was condemned for being a Christian.

Aquilina was raised a Christian in the Phoenician city of Byblos (in the modern day country of Lebanon). She persuaded either one or several young pagans to convert to Christianity. Unfortunately, this was during the time of the Emperor Diocletian. The Emperor Diocletian was Emperor during the tenth and final persecution of early Christians. She was brought before the Magistrate Volusian (a great villainous sounding name). When Aquilina refused to deny her Christian faith, Volusian ordered her flogged. She was brought back to the Magistrate. Again, Aquilina passionately refused to deny her Christianity. Volusian ordered her ears pierced by hot rods. Aquilina fainted and was considered dead. Her body was thrown outside the city walls. That night an angel appeared to the still living Aquilina. After gaining consciousness, Aquilina came before the Magistrate again. This time he ordered her beheaded. Aquilina was found dead the morning she was to be beheaded. It is believed her head was chopped off even though she was dead because the executioner feared the governor.

Her body was buried outside the city’s wall. Her relics were transported to Constantinople. Aquilina’s feast day is June 13.

Some sources for St. Aquilina:

• Aquilina the Martyr Saint of Byblos, Lebanon
• Catholic Online
• The Holy Virgin-Martyr Akylina of Syria
• Cederland: Lebanese Saints

I Want Summer Vacation

This is the first week that the kids are off of school for the summer. I spent the prior week whining that I want 3 months of vacation each summer. I even investigated earning a masters degree in teaching. I can’t figure out how to earn one without being unemployed for a period of time (so that’s not going to happen).

When I was a kid, summer meant hanging around with friends, riding bikes, two weeks at a Girl Scout sponsored art program, and reading books. I can handle that for 3 months or so. When I was a kid it drove me nuts, because I loved school. Even now, if I was a student, I could see passing on vacation. But I’m not a student (haven’t been for a long time), I’m just a drone in the office world who wants three months vacation during the summer.

My kids have a different summer than I did. They have things to go to like drama and creative writing camp at a local high school, sports programs at the grade school, one will go to Fencing camp, and the other is venturing off to an overnight camp for a week. Not only that, they are subjected to homework. We have worksheets to do (some from the school, but most from a mom who is trying to improve the grades of a child entering Jr. High). Even if I had to do worksheets, I still would like a summer vacation.

I would love to go to drama camps and sports programs. Even if I had to work ½ a day, just like I was doing worksheets, I’d be happy to pursue other interests in that free time while the sun shines brightly and the wind feels warm upon my skin. I never appreciated summer when I was a kid. I guess it is just another example of something being wasted upon youth.
So, I guess my summer vacation has to be crammed into my weekends. Last Saturday, we went to the Printers Row Book Fair, the Blues Fest and Millennium Park. My kids are finally old enough that we can enjoy these types of outings. Saturday was such a “Chicago summer day”. The only problem is that when you try to cram three months of summer into weekends only, is that it is tiring. I don’t remember being tired as a child. No matter how tiring it is, I appreciate my summer weekends. Now, only if I can somehow be employed in a field that I got three months vacation during the summer.

Coming to be fed

On Sunday, the Gospel reading was about Jesus feeding his followers with 2 fish and 5 loaves of bread. Our priest tied it nicely into his homily by talking about how we come to the table to feed on the body of Christ. Fr. K mentioned that Jesus knew he would have to feed these 5,000 men (and Fr. K also mentioned that woman and children just didn’t count at the time). This fit in nicely with the Feast of Corpus Christi.

Fr. K is leaving our parish soon to become a pastor at a nearby parish. He talked a bit about how he was at his new parish a few weeks ago, and one mass was sparsely attended. Suddenly, he was waking up at night with fears about how he was going to get people in the pews. I don’t think Fr. K will have any problems feeding his parishioners. I realized on Sunday I was seeing a priest who had really matured and grown into his own priest.

Fr. K is from Kenya. He’s been our associate for the past 6 years since he was ordained. I’m sure coming to our parish was quite a big of culture shock and perhaps intimidating. It wasn’t long until Fr. K was a vital part of the parish. Fr. K taught us about Kenya and has helped make our parish more aware of social justice, international and immigration issues. I’m sure we have taught him a thing or two, such as the Italian custom of the St. Joseph’s Altar.

Recently, our parish has gone through some turmoil. It was just my observation that Fr. K wasn’t as happy, as he once had been. I think it also showed in his homilies. He was giving homilies from the alb instead of walking around the center aisle. He was not as animated. Last week, there was a party in Fr. K’s honor. Unfortunately, I was unable to attend, but I heard stories of all those that came to say good-bye to Fr. K. This Sunday, I sat at mass and heard the best homily that Fr. K ever gave. He was back in the center aisle, being personable, and talking to the people instead of at the people. After mass, a number of people waited for a blessing from Fr. K. I skipped the line because I know I will see Fr. K again after he leaves our parish. But this Sunday, I really felt I had seen a man truly grow into a priest. A man may be designated a priest through ordination, but our parish has been fortunate to witness an individual truly embrace the priesthood.