Blind Faith.

Most of my early childhood memories are out of focus, a bit on the fuzzy side.( well shoot, this is out of focus too as I just figured out I put my contacts in the wrong eyes this morning - I think our minister thought I was winking at him during service......crap.....be right back.) 

Okay, all better .       Being  nearly freakin blind in a catholic elementary school ( no glasses until 5th grade) meant that I experienced a lot of rituals and sacraments literally on blind faith.  As in , please God don't let the large white blob at the end of this tunnel/aisle kill me with the flame thrower (large lit candles) for my sins.  My religious education had a dubious start.  Although my eyesight was shit my memory of the first day of 2nd grade is forever tattooed on my brain. 







2nd Communion , head NOT bowed - eye on the blob



When you're 8 years old I think you can go one of two ways in the sinning category - you either have no clue that you're sinning (grow up a normal kid) or as I experienced it, the mere act of breathing had some sin attached to it.  My first day of second grade at St. Paul's Elementary School was not the only "first" that day. It was also my first communion. Only it wasn't suppose to be my first communion.  My first communion was a complete accident.  One I was convinced I'd burn in hell for.  I think I saw it listed in my little catechism book. There was a picture of a ladder and each step was a sacrament.  DO THESE OUT OF ORDER AND YOU'LL LIVE IN PURGATORY FOREVER.  page 3.  Basic catechism.  My goal was to attain priesthood.  Top rung.   Those were the days when every school day started with mass.   Somehow I ended up in the wrong pew at church with a bunch of other 2nd graders who were also going to go to hell.  This was most likely due to the fact that my mother was rarely on time for anything and probably dropped me off at the front of the church.  All I know is at some point there was a large white shaped blob , who later turned out to be Father Somebody,  waving his arms around and then everyone starting moving out of our pew.  I fell in line like everyone else.   Slowly moving forward.  Squinting my way down the aisle.  Probably thinking lunch time was coming early.  At some point it occurred to me I was making a huge error but I didn't know how to fix it.  I couldn't see how to get back to where I came from.  And then there it was.  The big white blob with a wafer still waving his arms around.  I took it and followed the girl in front of me.    Later, Sister Mary Melanie was NOT happy with her little group of wayward 2nd graders who had NOT even received the sacrament of confession yet.  There'd be no rung hopping under Sister M&M's watch.  How would this look on her record?   Day one in second grade and I've already pissed off God.  And worse than that managed to piss off a nun.  Not good odds for getting into heaven. 

The only moment worse than that in 2nd grade WAS the sacrament of confession.  Now, I don't know if my parents just didn't explain things to me, or if I couldn't see what Sister M&M was pointing at at the front of the class OR what but my first confession was like something out of a horror movie.   Again I was clueless.  I remembered the prayer we all memorized 'Bless me Father for I have sinned....." and I stood in line with all the other 2nd graders waiting to enter the confessional trying to dream up and categorize my sins.  "Hit my sister, that's one... "   It certainly would have been helpful if someone had mentioned that after I closed the door and kneeled inside the little tiny claustrophobic confessional box the lights would go off. I would have confessed to anything to get out of there. "I did iiiiiiiiiiiiiiitttttttttttttttt!"

Mom giving me guilt-ridden hell.  She had some to spare.  Me, going blind with sadness.



Church was just full of one frightening experience after another . There was the day we marched down the aisle at church to have our throats blessed.  Something about somebody having a fish bone stuck and having it miraculously cleared or maybe it was fish stick Friday - I don't know.  I had pigtails that day.  Long pigtails.  As I got closer to the priest ( By this time I could guess Father Somebody was at the end of the line)  I noticed there were two very large candles that were crossed and held together with a purple ribbon.  All I could think about was what if he lights the candles and catches my pigtails on fire.   I worried a lot.  Myopic 8 year olds do that

And some experiences are just shocking. I was sent on an errand to the office .  As I rounded the corner toward the Principal's office I ran into Father Kleiser.    He was smoking a cigarette and and had just used the word "hell" as a curse word.  I was sure the end of the world was happening that day.  At the very least he must have slipped off the top rung.  



March 1968 - 13 inches of snow. Clearly I was struck by the somberness of the day. 



After 2nd grade the Tower of Terror at Disney World was a cake walk.