Hello and welcome to another Saturday here at the Wannaskan Almanac. Today is September 19th, or 9-19-20, which reminds me of a joke. Why was 6 afraid of 7? Because 7 ate 9. Although, I'm not sure how much damage 19 could do to 20 - or vice versa - and would like to think of them as nice, numerical neighbors.
“I’m scared,” the Third Grader wailed last Sunday. “Everyone will see me and be watching me.”
Her crocodile tears were fat little plops of wetness on her cheeks. It was all I could do to refrain from rolling my eyes. Normally, this child is fearless – bold to the point of dauntless if not downright daring. Borderline defiant. Heck, who am I kidding? Fully in-your-face defiant.
And what was the Third Grader caterwauling so insistently about? Her First Communion. It was finally here and she was finally going to have to go through with it. This is the same girl who had been asking for months when she would be able to participate in the Eucharist. Begging for permission; for us to just give her a pass and let her have it regardless of the protocols. And now the moment was upon us and she was crying. I couldn’t believe it.
I tried consoling her, assuring her it would be fine and that people cared more about their own problems and their own appearances anyway. She wouldn’t budge.
I'd been thinking a lot about anxiety and depression lately because the Oldest had described a couple guys she’d met at school who were so verbal and open about their mental health problems, it surprised me. Honestly, it alarmed me. Are there more kids with depression and anxiety today than when I was a kid or is it just more acceptable to talk about it? Did we have hover parents when I was a kid or did I just not see it?
So, while I really didn’t want to put energy into taking the Third Grader's anxiety and fears seriously, thinking about those young men off at college made me ask myself how could I not? I am her mother. It was bad enough that while, yes, I had a white First Communion dress all ready to go (for months, actually!), I’d completely forgotten to procure a pair of white dress shoes to go with the dress. Fortunately, a friend had texted me Saturday morning about her daughter’s dress and shoes which set off my maternal alarm. I considered it a blessing when the Third Grader announced she wasn't going to wear white tights. A win for both of us as I didn't have a pair of those that fit her either. (Note: A big shout-out to our Warroad Chamber of Commerce gal for sending me over to Annie's outlet in Warroad for a white pair of shoes that did the trick!)
Then I remembered: I had said something to the Third Grader that had worked back in March when she had had a similar reaction to performing at her first Festival, which is a judged music event. Something to the effect that it was okay to feel nervous and she was strong. She could do this.
She had nailed her memorized music pieces and gotten a superior – the highest Festival ranking possible. I remember her telling me afterwards that she had gotten through it by repeating the phrase "I am strong" to herself under her breath, Given that success, surely, she could walk up the aisle at church and receive a communion wafer. There was nothing to memorize and she'd have her family by her side.
So, I said, “It’s okay to be nervous. AND you are strong.”
She yowled the entire three miles to town. The tears abated only after we parked and started walking toward the church.
After she had her first Holy Eucharist, she returned to the pew, sat by her dad, gave herself one of those fist pumps as if to say, “YES. I did it.” She leaned back and made eye contact with me sitting three kids down and gave me a triumphant, beaming smile.
After mass, I congratulated her on her bravery and asked how she got through it, thinking she would say that she had repeated under her breath, “I am strong. I am strong.”
Instead, she said, “I pretended no one was watching me.”
Hey, whatever gets you through it.
On This Day
Remembering You
Kim
Thanks for including the pic of Miss L. It has been a while since I've seen her. My how they grow! I know everyone says that about kids, and they do so because it is so very true and we are shocked every time it happens - maybe it's like looking in the mirror going in the opposite direction. But then, old age isn't for sissies, and neither is a First Communion!
ReplyDelete