The Rosary

Tonight I went to a Rosary at St. Elizabeth Ann Seton in west Wichita. I was there to support a friend from work whose father passed away this weekend. Since I'm not catholic and I can never remember what I am supposed to do or not to do when I am at these things, I quickly grabbed a seat in the back row and watched all the people come in and do their catholic stuff: touch the water, kneel beside the pew, pull out the kneeling bench, and all that other stuff I never really understood.

As the service started I quickly forgot about Tim and his father and my mind starting flooding with memories from growing up, and the role this church played in my childhood. I was never catholic, but this church (or parish, or whatever it is supposed to be called) still played a role in my early years.

First, my eyes filled with tears as I remembered the last time I was in this building for a funeral mass. It was 18 years ago this month, and I was there for the funeral of my best friend's mother. Julie had been busy planning her wedding when her mother was suddenly diagnosed with pancreatic cancer in late August, or maybe early September, I can't really remember anymore. The wedding plans continued while her mother quickly grew more and more ill over the next six weeks or so, until she died. We had the funeral in late October I believe, then two months later we all gathered in that building again for Julie's wedding on December 29th. It was a tough funeral to attend.

But my memories of this church actually started much earlier. I grew up in the neighborhood just west of the church and can remember when it was being built in the 1980's, while I was in high school I think, or maybe middle school. At that time there was only a field separating my house from this church building, although now the field is gone and a new housing addition stands there. I think I could see the church from the windows in our living room, and I drove by it, or rode my bike by it, on a regular basis. I even went to mass there on occasion. Julie and her two siblings lived across the street from me and since I was basically an only child (my older brother was graduated high school and living out of state by the time I was around 10 or so), I spent a good chunk of my childhood tagging along with them. I remember several times when I would get invited to go to the movie, or out to eat, or something fun and once I agreed to go, then Julie and her sister would inform me that I had to go to mass with them first, then we go to the fun thing. So they'd load me up in the car and take me to Saturday evening mass with the family, then we'd get dropped off at the movies, or the mall, or someplace equally fun. I never minded going to mass, but I always felt out of place. Julie and Susy would whisper or nudge me if I was supposed to do something (like kneel), or not supposed to do something (like communion). I just followed along and watched in awe at all the prayers they could recite from memory. And actually, now that I'm doing the math, I think many of my visits to mass occurred at St. Francic of Assisi parish in Westlink, before St. Elizabeth was built.

My favorite memory from St. Elizabeth parish was Julie's wedding. I was the only non-catholic in the wedding party and I was really stressed out about this. I was afraid I might do something wrong, but Julie's brother and sister were pretty good about giving me the eye when I got confused. And if I remember right (it was almost 18 years ago), her sister was on the outs with the catholic church at that time, so she wasn't allowed to do some of the stuff either. I think the wedding was also a full mass, so there were times when I was to remain sitting on the pew while the rest of the wedding party went forward. That must have been the eucharist. I survived and didn't do anything to embarrass my catholic friend, but I sure was glad when it was over! I also remember at her wedding reception (also at the church) they served punch with champagne even though most of the wedding party had not even officially reached drinking age. Her sister Susy and I were the oldest, and I think we were just 21 at the time. I think this was only the second time in my life I had drank alcohol. The first was in middle school when I was playing at Julie's house and her mother was entertaining some nuns who were visiting from out of town. They were all laughing and talking and drinking champagne or wine in her kitchen, and they gave us each of us kids a small glass of it. I remember taking one drink and then running to the sink and gulping down some water straight from the faucet because I thought it was disgusting. I never did really aquire a taste for alcohol. Except margaritas. I like those a lot.

Anyway....those were the thoughts going through my head this evening while everyone around me was saying the rosary. I called Julie before I went to get a quick refresher on the catholic rules and she told me I better kneel when everyone else did, even though I wasn't catholic. So just to be bratty, I stayed seated while everyone else kneeled. Me and the old guy in front of me. But to my defense, the priest did say "please join me in kneeling or sitting while we blah, blah, blah". It was a nice service, though I'm still confused on the whole purgatory thing. The priest said something at the end about how as each one of us prayed tonight, we helped open the gates for someone to go from purgatory into heaven. I might ask Julie about it, just so we can have the same argument we had hundreds of times growing up over who is right and who is wrong on this issue. I always lose because Julie is both smarter than me and more stubborn. I not only can't defend myself against her arguments, but I quickly lose interest and just give up and change the subject. But she's still one of my best friends :)