Today I told you how proud I was of you.
Before the sun rose and before your warm toes reached the ground I sleeplessly searched around for my contacts and prepared for the day ahead. I made sure my diaper bag was packed and equipped to handle any emergency that could arise during a two hour long resurrection mass held at Kościół Najświętszej Trójcy (Holy Trinity in Chicago, IL) spoken in Polish very early on Easter Sunday.
I was nervous.
The procession of priests, alter boys, nuns, and dignitaries into the standing-room only cathedral took a little over thirty minutes and full of questions from inquisitive Jay. "Not everyone believes in God, right?" "How does an organ work?" "How exactly did Jesus come alive?" "Why is everyone speaking in Chicagoish?"
My sweetest Fifi, you adored the music, which came as no surprise as you started the morning off singing Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star in the moonlight surrounding Babcia and Dziadek's room. When the trumpets triumphantly sounded in the silent church of hundreds it took your breath away and you innocently gasped "oh, woooooow" out loud enough for dozens of people around us to chuckle with happiness.
Nearly an hour into the mass and as the sun rose you Lola confidently started to stir. One, two, three warnings and your smile melted my authority. You, the true testament of my soul, heard my silent cries and sat quietly lost in your world.
Of course, things weren't always perfect during the 120 minutes of the early morning mass spoken in a language that you did not understand in a Roman Catholic Polish church.
And with that alone, dearest children, I am so very proud of you. You were perfectly adaptable and only minimally whinny during a very sacred tradition that was so foreign from our weekly mass but so part of our history. I apologize for seeming so nervous.
Sunday, April 12, 2009
Posted by OHmommy at 9:51 PM