These Things Happen in Small Towns

I refer to myself as Mexican-Catholic. The short answer to your question is this: I believe in God and I show up at church for weddings, funerals, baptisms, first communions, and Easter. If I'm lucky, that sometimes means I'm only setting my alarm once in a given year to get there on time. Don't think I'm being disrespectful. I know I suck at being Catholic, and I'm not a huge fan of organized anything, but the religion (at least for me) has always been wrapped in culture. Before I hit send on anything important, I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and make a sign of the cross. When I find anything I've lost (which is often), my eyes instantly look upward in a silent Thank You. And my Spanish might not be what it was before I started kindergarten, but I can still recite the Our Father without tripping over my own tongue.

When we got married, The Husband agreed to a church ceremony for me. We agreed on baptizing Buttercup and my taking her to church at least until she makes her First Communion. After that, it's up to her. It's the same set of rules my parents had for me and I'm good with that.

The thing is, you don't just show up for the First Communion with the pretty dress and expect anyone to just bless you and send you on your way. Buttercup is almost six now, so I found a church, started going to bed before 3 a.m., and she and I are now regulars at the 10:30 a.m. mass, right after Sunday school. I can't say we'll be there the Sunday after she makes her First Communion in two years, but I don't know that we won't be, either.

Last Sunday, as we sat in the pew during the service and listened to the words, I realized something. It wasn't Profound. It's not Deep and Meaningful. But it is pretty fucking hilarious because learning that your deacon adjusted your coccyx after you almost broke your tailbone falling down the stairs because your deacon also happens to be your chiropractor is just the kind  of thing happens when you live in a small town.