My last post for the day. This is not a hospital story but comes from what that doctor said, Your last bloodwork was 7 months ago. Topic in this post: Confession. Growing up in a big catholic, Irish family Confession was part of the Saturday routine. My father was an older attorney who, to give my mother a break, would volunteer to take the youngest six to confession each Saturday. Left at home were my baby sister and whomever didnt have Saturday activies in the older group of six siblings. My dad would pull up to the side entrance door to the church after stopping at the magazine/cigar store to get Saturday nights racetrack form. He would turn around in the car and tell us to go into the church and not come out until everyone confessed. Meantime he sat in the car and was choosing his picks for the night. We all filed into the church with our scruffy Saturday clothes. The priest would never see us when they slid that little door open. I loved Saturday afternoons in that church. It was a free for all. My one brother would light the candles that had the little jar where you left money so that God would think about one of your loved ones if you paid up. Pay was not involved with the brothers lighting. It was just a good light show seeing the matches ignite. The rest of us explored all parts of the church that we were unable to visit on Sundays or weekdays when our classes attended church. Confession took at least an hour to two hours each visit. My biggest problem with this day was going into that confessional and remembering what sins I committed. I made up a list of sins and added one extra lie to the lies told because the entire confession was a lie. We would all receive our penance and then quiz each other as to what we were told to do at the altar for the penance. Collectively we would get ourselves together and walk back out to that stationwagon. My dad would ask who spent the most time doing penance and we would always say it was the brother who lit all the candles because it just made sense. The car would then start up and return us to the house for the Saturday afternoon buzz cuts my mother gave my brothers. Us fortunate ones made the trip to the track with my father Saturday night to watch him enjoy his horses. Great memory the way I recall it.
Posted on: Fri, 10 Oct 2014 09:54:41 +0000
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