It was a special day. I knew Susie was excited. After all these years of hanging back in the pew during communion she would now join our ranks. She understood Who she would be receiving in the Eucharist that morning and forevermore. As I curled her thick dark hair that morning and donned her veil on her, I told her that Jesus had been awaiting this day anxiously. I believe that. I had moments where I felt tears welling up in my eyes as I beheld my youngest in her older sister's First Communion dress which had been passed down to her. She is the last of my daughters.
I got to church before the others and took my assigned seats where only parents were welcome to sit. That meant siblings and grandparents had to fend for themselves. I ran into a friend in church that morning and lamented about my bittersweet feelings and he, a seasoned grandfather of many, told me,
"Well, the last one has to come eventually." How true. Even if I was blessed with 12 more babies, eventually there is an end.
The procession started and the children came in two by two. I cant even remember if Susie's partner was a boy or a girl. I only had eyes for her and I snapped pictures quietly with my iPhone not caring a whit that they had asked us not to. Whatever. She's my baby. Jesus doesn't mind. (Yes, I literally had these thoughts).
As the mass commenced the childrens choir sang. It was beautiful. But I had a nagging worry that Rick would not come up with me to walk Susie towards Monsignor for her very first communion. I knew he would be concerned about having to go up to the altar and have a priest mistake him for a Catholic who is able to receive communion and he didn't want to deal with the fuss and complication. I understood.
I briefly explained in a whisper that they had taken care of that. The parents would walk the child to the altar and stop. The child would walk take three short steps to the priest to receive. We, the parents, would walk off to the sides and either receive communion from a layperson or simply walk back to the pew with no fuss.
But Rick didn't want to. I sat quietly fuming in my seat at his flat refusal. I knew he felt funny. Instead of getting angry, though, I chose to let it go and leave it to God saying an internal Hail Mary.
It was time. As the children rose to line up for communion, I noticed Rick watching the process of both parents going up with their children. He leaned over and whispered, "What did you do before?" He meant in years past when he didn't sit with me. I told him that my mother would come with me.
I knew what he was thinking. He didn't want Susie to go up with only one parent and I sent up a thank you to the Lord for taking care of the problem.
Our turn came and we walked Susie to the altar together. After receiving, she stepped down and her father walked back with her to her seat but he hugged and congratulated her first. It meant the world to both of us.
And so the mass ended and Susie made her first communion. It was beautiful. She didnt want to miss the school fair later that day and opted out of a party. We made it just in time and took her out to eat later that night and made a trip to the toy store.
Afterwards she told me, "I feel like I am more grown up now."
Amen, baby girl. Amen
