I flew down to southern California on this day to attend my nephew’s First Communion. My poor nephew. I’m not sure what was wrong, but he screamed his head off for about half hour or more before Mass started. My other sister didn’t end up coming down and my parents were late coming to the mass. My nephew’s mom (my sister) was pretty stressed, understandably so. We were all holding our breath to see if he would actually join the other kids to receive his first communion, and in the end, he did. We all took a deep sigh quietly celebrated the victory, and I congratulated his parents (my sister and her husband) for managing the entire ordeal with grace. It’s hard to be parents. On the other hand, I wish I had more time to talk to my nephew to find out what was wrong. I’m not sure he would open up to me, but I wish he would open up to someone. His older brother also had a traumatic First Communion. My brother-in-law chased him all over the parking lot, but he managed to receive the communion anyway. Ah, Catholicism and parenting can be so traumatic. Not unlike a plane ride in some ways, but at least there’s a floating device, oxygen masks, and a plan set in case of an emergency.
