Dancing Nancies

~ Could I have been anyone other than me? ~

My kids were here for a few days.

For about three days afterward I walked around my house finding pieces that said that they had been here.

There was candy, change, unmade beds (that I don't care about- I would rather do that myself anyway). I found shot glasses, and pillows, cups left in their rooms.

By next week this time perhaps the house will be back in order in a semblance of something that it was before my children danced back into it for a short time. Its funny how time blurs out the chaos and disorder of having children and how quickly it returns to that when they do…. 

Movie ticket stubs, wrappers from Nutty Bars, toys that they got as gag gifts for Easter-

And my daughter's broken Rosary. 

Just to be clear, we're not Catholic. My cousins are, in fact the whole family on the other side of my dad's immediate family are Catholic. This side is Lutheran.

My grandparents had a vague notion of religion, so my dad and my Uncle Clare matriculated to their spouse's form of Christianity.

There are some vastly huge differences.

And there are some vastly huge similarities….I was watching "Doubt" on television, which is a show about a Catholic school going to through a crisis and the hymns and liturgy were very much like what I grew up with in the Lutheran Church.

But again, there are vast differences.

 For starters, we don't use Rosaries.

I like Rosaries. I personally think that they're pretty. They are interesting because there are so many different ones. To be honest, I own a Rosary; it hangs behind my desk on a bookshelf. It's a cross and I like crosses, and I like worry beads and they are a nice combination of the two. The Catholic religion in and of itself is a source of great interest to me. I’m curious about certain aspects of it. Someday I’ll probably read up on it and have something intelligent to say about it. But until that time…I’ll remain curiously peering in and wondering about it while walking with friends through the Catholic supply store in town.

When my daughter broke her Rosary we went to that Catholic supply store. I explained to my daughter that it was okay to use a rosary like worry beads and that it was okay to use them to concentrate on prayers but to make sure that people knew that she wasn't doing "The Rosary"; because she isn’t Catholic and because it’s not what we believe. She rolled her eyes and explained to me that she already knew that. She said she was comforted by them in her pocket, she said that she rubs them and it helps her stay calm. Okay, that’s fine I guess.

We went in and like always I was confronted with a lot of Mary.

I’ve always been intrigued with this deep belief in Mary the Mother of God. Let’s be blunt, Mary was the mother of God. That’s a fact and Mary was a remarkable young woman; she was the mother of God. And like me, she was given a task….Now I'm not saying that what I do with Booga ranks right up there with raising The Son of God, I wouldn't even venture to say such a thing. I mean, he's God. But the "given a task" thing….You betcha.

We're all given a task. Some are more pressing than others. Mary's was monumental in and of itself. God did give her an amazing gift but at the same time gave her a tremendous burden and in the end a bitter heartache.

He gave me a bitter heartache but in the end a tremendous gift.

Boog was an unexpected package with really difficult moments from the get go. The pain involved in finding out that your child does not meet the expectations you gave them to fulfill at birth and to find that out in the bizarre and some times frightening way that Autism presents itself is calamitous at best.

But in the end Booga has been a comfort at times when I've least expected it. He's been comedy relief at times when the tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife. He's been the ice breaker in many conversations, and sometimes, Booga has been the unwitting excuse to leave when we were in the midst of a miserable moment.

He amazing in the way he strives to be at his best at all times. He dislikes being wrong. He is a perfectionist. These are all good things for people to be, I believe. He delights in making me proud, which is all any parent can ask of any child. And he loves his parents and his Lord with an unconditional love.

He's a burden laden- tremendous gift.

My daughters Rosary was fixed and left on her fan in her room.

 I put it on her door. The foyer needs a cross anyway.

 The Rosary remains a nice poem for me-the piece of Jewelry a work of art like any piece of jewelry that might get left for me by my daughter when she leaves home from time to time- And I accept it like that.

 And I thank her for it.

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