Communicant'n

The road to Owen's First Communion was not without a few detours. In the fall Owen announced that he didn't want to have a First Communion (I asked him if he even knew what that meant to which he informed me "yes" but that he still didn't want it, though he later grudgingly agreed). Around All Saints Day, I had a bit of a falling out with Owen's Sunday school teacher, Mr. Stephen (a Seminarian) and the Sunday School Coordinator, Ms. Elisa, over mass worksheets, the purpose of teaching the Fatima Prayer (and the "fires of hell") to a bunch of seven year olds, and ignoring parent inquiries while dispensing multiple reminders of the importance of holy days of obligation. By winter, we had reached a detente, though we were late to the Reconciliation service and forgot to sign in resulting in another back and forth with Ms. Elisa.

But eventually, we found our way. Owen had his first confession (he's actually gone twice now -- a feat I hadn't managed until a couple of years ago), did the requisite banner making and church scavenger hunt, tried out unconsecrated host (he faked taking the wine) and then on April 27, 2014 -- the same day that John the XXIII and John Paul II became saints -- Owen had his First Communion to a packed congregation with his loving family in attendance.

Grandma & Grandpa Z flew in for the event, and we were joined by Mom Mom & Grandpa Don, Godmother/Aunt Katherine and Uncle L, as well as cousin Molly. It was a long mass, and the non-Catholics weren't really sure what to take from Father Byrne's homily about not following donkey do-do (it involved getting lost overnight in the Grand Canyon and sticking together, thought I'm not totally sure what the Catholics were supposed to take from it either), but I think everyone appreciated the solemnity and pageantry of it all (well, maybe not everyone...).

After the mass, we skipped out on the cookies and juice reception at the church in favor of the margaritas and chicken tenders lunch that Owen requested (actually, Owen just requested the chicken tenders; the margaritas was all us). Later, we headed back to the house for ice cream cake and so that Owen could make a playdate at his friend Ronan's, and so everyone else could take a nap.

(Thanks to everyone who came and for all the cards and notes from Uncle Bernie, Aunt Ellen, Dave & Kara, and Aunt Jeannine. A special congratulations to Owen's fellow communicants. And to see all the pictures, please click here).