Prayers

I really wanted J to get into the Lenten season, but I wasn't quite sure what to do. My parents didn't make me give up anything when I was eight years old. I don't remember if they even made me adhere to the Fish Friday rules. And the Catholic Church doesn't require either until the age of ten, I think ~ maybe 14. However, with First Communion coming up in a couple of months, I wanted to do something to recognize the 40 days leading up to Easter.

Since he only plays Wii on the weekends, I didn't think giving up would have an impact. He loves his desserts, so I could have gone that route, but that's the kid's only indulgence on weekdays. There will be plenty of time later on to make him miserable, this year, I was going more for enrichment. That's when I decided that instead of taking something away, I would add something to his daily routine. Because the Thankful Turkey (here) that we did a couple of years ago was a big hit and something that made us think about our day and the blessings throughout, I added an extra prayer to our nightly ritual; a special prayer for someone/something that day.

J is very into saying his prayers, but they're usually the typical Our Father/Hail Mary type of prayers that are recited; doing an ad lib one was a new concept for him. After a couple of days of prompting him, here are some of my favorites:

"Dear God, Thank you for my family. I like them. Please take care of them. Amen."

"Dear God, Thank you for my Dad. He's nice. Keep him healthy and safe. Amen."

And tonight: Dear God, Thank you for M. I love her. Keep her safe. Amen."

Does anyone else see a pattern here? It's almost form-like:

Dear God,

Thank you for (Insert Noun Here). (Insert Compliment Here). (Insert Prayer Request Here). Amen!

M has been in the room a couple of times when he's said his prayers and has added some of her own:

"I like dresses. Thank you for dresses. I like dresses."

And this evening: "Thank you for my bruder. I'm sorry I be mean to him."

Amen, Sister!

A Decade Later

Ten years ago today I left the house on Conrad Drive that I had lived in for so long; the place where I, for all intents and purposes, grew up; the place that once had so much life and where my father lost his.

It was a day filled with emotions. On the one hand, the excitement of moving to a different state and starting a new life with my future husband. On the other, seeing the tear-stained face of the woman who had never needed me more than she did at that time.

With my veladora in hand, I turned away. Since then I have married, become a mom, and moved another two times. I've endured happy times as well as sad ones. I've worked at my trade and have taken on a new one. My life is as it is now because I took that step; the same step that led me to a place where I found a strength and resolve that I never knew existed within me.

Looking back now, leaving there was like a breath of fresh air. I felt so liberated. So light. Even with the stresses of being a new mom and moving to DC, I knew I had made the right choice and that I was where I needed to be. Our move to WA State 5 years later was like a homecoming. I was back on the West Coast and an hour-plus away from Sacramento.

About a year ago, D's work began a restructure where the opportunity for us to move back might be on the table. It's been a long process and now it seems as though we'll be here for a little bit more. The logical side of me knows that it's the best option for now. Our house is worth much less than what we paid for it, J's school is wonderful, and the position D would take on would be one that would leave room for another move. To another state. So staying here is the best option. I really do get that. And yet I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a bit disappointed. Even with all the stresses that particular move would bring.

While my life has seen many changes, not much has changed there; and it's the same things that drove me away that are now calling me home.