Two years ago, when Charlie made his First Communion I was overjoyed and so proud. But a little voice in the back of my head said, “Will this ever be Finn? Will Finn ever be able to stand up there in a scratchy suit with other kids standing that close to him? Will he ever be able to go to CCD?”
Two years ago, Finn was in a self contained classroom. He was still overturning desks and tearing up school work. There was no way I was ever going to get him to go to CCD. So, on the day of Charlie’s Communion, I beamed with pride for Charlie and I cried a silent tear for Finn. Because I never imagined what the future held.
In the beginning, Finn couldn’t sit still for mass. He would push the chairs and fidget in his seat. One week, he sat on the floor in the aisle. I tried my best to look the other way because he wasn’t bothering anyone and he was, afterall, being quiet, but an elderly parishoner made a comment about “Jesus showing him the way” and I packed them up and left.
Taking the kids to church has been a labor of love for me. I didn’t always want to do it, but I did it anyway. There were many times when I’d look around the room for a friendly face to acknowledge how hard I was trying. A sympathetic smile from an older mom who had once been in the trenches like me. Some weeks that face smiled back. Other weeks it didn’t.
But we kept going anyway.
We’ve used token boards and the promise of donuts after church to get us through. And the first week that Finn attended the children’s liturgy with Charlie, I almost fell out of my seat!
So we kept going.
And soon, church didn’t feel like such an unfamiliar place. The priest knows us and so does the Religious Ed director. It has become part of Finn’s routine and he likes it. (He’ll never admit it, but I know he does! If not, at the very least, for the donuts! Oreo crumble from Shop Rite, please?)
Each week, he followed me up to Communion and said to the priest “I want to taste the potato chip.” The priest always gave him a blessing and me a knowing smile. And finally, baby steps along the way have led us to this:
My boy made his First Communion! And he didn’t just do it, he rocked it! He even took up the gifts! He didn’t just wear the suit, he didn’t want to take it off! Two years ago, I couldn’t have imagined him wearing a scratchy suit and dress shoes!
I wish I could’ve told the me who mourned the idea of Finn making his sacraments of this day. I wish I could’ve known that nothing was going to keep his light from shining. I wish that someone could have told me that everything was going to be just fine. But I never would have believed it. And it wouldn’t have kept me in the fight. Chipping away. Every day. Helping my boy find his way. I’m grateful for our struggles because they make days like these so much sweeter.
On a cold day in January, Finn made his Reconciliation (we used to call it Penance back in the day.) I was unbelievably proud of him that day, but I didn’t write about it because, well, I’m a slacker. But I wanted to tell you about a song they sang because it was so moving and poignant to how I feel about Finn. It went something like this:
Way beyond the stars;
Far beyond what I can see.
Your love has no end,
and it reaches out to me.
Lord, nothing in this World,
in all the Universe;
Nothing, could keep me from your love, Lord Jesus.
No matter what I’ve done,
Whatever I go through;
Nothing could keep me from your love,
Nothing coould keep me from you.
I had to choke back my weepy mom sobs as he stood in front of the church and sang that song. I was so proud of him. I would move mountains for him– only it seems he doesn’t need me to. He can move them all by himself.