I was up early this morning to commune with my own gods walking the dog, feeling the sun and listening to the birds….
…and then home for the more formal version.
The boy did look totally dapper in his three piece suit, white shirt and silver grey tie… Jane polished up his shoes and I broke open Janes old bottle of Eau de Sauvage (one of my all time favourite smells)…if my boy was going to look good – he was certainly going to smell good too… AND I’ve been teaching him to hitch his trouser knees when he sits down… I want him to have all the masculine habits that make men attractive… when he grows up i hope he wet shaves and wears cufflinks.
No doubt I’ll have to instill this stuff in him myself….
In the meantime back to religion… instilled by Jane and the holy roman catholic church.
My sister turned up en famille… impressive as we don’t ‘do’ religion in my family much but even moreso as at midnight last night she was collapsing at Liverpool airport from a post flight perforated ear-drum!!!
Long service…. not bad hymns… it went on a bit….
…but it was lovely watching the boy carry the box up the aisle containing a special 300 year old chalice (my brother-in-law wondered if the box contained the priests 45s… it was the right size and shape). The boy managed to get back to his seat before complaining about the wine and my mother (a non catholic, although confirmed in the CofE) decided she’d like to do communion but had to be reminded to put the wafer in her mouth and skipped the wine altogether.
Watching the congregation accepting the eucharist, watching their faces made me wish I did do belief… it would be lovely to find such easy peace… but no…. much as I appreciate the rituals, the singing, architecture, community et al… I just don’t have it in me to believe… which is weird..I believe in ghosts… but then i’ve seen a ghost…. at least I leave some waver room nowadays and describe myself as agnostic as opposed to the atheist I used to be.
Released into the wild at the end of mass… the boy went mad… it was a long mass to sit still for. They’d laid out a post communion tea for the kids and there were refreshments for everyone who wanted to hang around – but even the priest trying to force feed the boy cake couldn’t keep him in place… he needed grass beneath his feet and the sky above his head.. and the voice of his mother echoing distantly “get up off that grass with your bloody suit on”.