364/365 This is where I live

When I left the school, pregnant with Sophia but not ready to give up my current life for a new one, I couldn't see into the future. I had made the mistake of teaching where I went to church. As much as I loved teaching at the school, it was impossible to keep those two parts of my life separate and my faith life suffered for it. Plus I was incredibly immature and, truly, should have been reined in by a principal and put in my place--but our principal got winded walking up a flight of stairs so it was kind of every man for himself. Anyway, I've talked about this before and let it go ages ago. But I think back on it sometimes, the conversation I had with Mike that fall, as my faith drifted and I got busy being a mother.

We baptized Sophia the Sunday after September 11, 2001. I was still so angry at our pastor I couldn't make eye contact. And I said to Mike, "I'm going to outlast them. Sr. Fern's contract is up next year. She'll move on. Sr. Agneta will, too. And Fr. Bill. I will stand here, in my parish, and outlast them."

Agneta and Fern left at the same time--the school was only open that one last year before we merged with a neighboring parish school. Bill was there a long time. He baptized Maeve. I almost didn't have her baptized, and I almost had Mike's uncle do it down in Cairo. But I stood firm. This was my parish. Plus Mike wasn't going to let me not baptize her (I was on the edge, leaving for the Quakers, but still wanting to prove I belonged at my parish? I was in the throes of something, let me tell you).

So we baptized Maeve, but I didn't even invite Bill over afterward. Still pissed. Then that coming year I was nominated by a ridiculous number of people to be on parish council. That's what happens when you pray for guidance. So I sat at that table and took notes as secretary and didn't budge. This was my parish.

When Bill left, I wrote him a nice note. By that point, my edges were worn down some and it was obvious that I belonged here.

I can't even imagine having angry heated loud arguments with our pastor in the parking lot now.

Agneta, Fern, Bill...all left. Then Joey left. And Terri. And all those people. The parish now is not what it was then. I stood my ground. I stayed. Even Dolores is hardly ever there. All those crazy folks from back when I taught (there are new crazy folks, of course). I'm here, Astrid's here, Colleen O'Toole's here...but most everyone is gone. Their kids grew up and the parish was less a part of their lives. Sometimes I'll see a kid I taught--like Flora's sons, who are, like, as old as me now--and that always makes me happy. But all those crazy adults? Don't miss them a bit.