It's hard to shake that stuff. Everyone I know who used to be Catholic (or is an occasional one) talks about it and it tends to rear it's head this time of the year more than any other. My grandmother was a hardcore Catholic and my mom, aunts and uncles always tell stories about how they couldn't eat meat on Fridays (year round, not just during Lent) and had to be very active in the church. I didn't understand why my grandma was so invested in her faith until I came to terms with my own, which I leaned on heavily to get through the dark ages. She had six kids and one more on the way when she became a widow at 29, you have to believe devoutly in something to navigate that because it's a lot. By the time she became a grandma (a minor miracle when you consider all the things half her own kids did to try and give her heart attacks), she'd chilled out a bit and still did the church thing but had lifted some of the stricter bans like the year round no meat on Fridays rule. Her beliefs had a tremendous effect on me, but I didn't realize it until much later.
I was 9 when my grandma died and it was a big hit for the entire family. It shook us all for years and during those years some of us were estranged, but others got closer. As I got older I started questioning the Catholic beliefs I'd been raised with, especially after I left Catholic school. I declared myself no longer Catholic after an agitating conversation with a friend in my first year of high school and I've never looked back. That same year I told my mother I wasn't going to give up anything for Lent because I didn't have to do that anymore and she told me different and...well, I gave up something for Lent that year. Once I graduated high school, I decided I was really not going to give anything up for Lent anymore and planned to sever as many ties to my former religion as I could. The same day I said this, the fam and I went out to visit the grandparent's graves and could not find them ANYWHERE, even though we went to the exact place they'd always been. We had strangers helping us try and locate these graves for an hour before we gave up and left. The girlfriend and I stopped at the store on the way home and were talking about the cemetery incident and I was reiterating my plans to go completely non-Catholic when a car cut their turn in the parking lot too close and sideswiped us, breaking off the driver's side mirror. We exchanged insurance information and this woman who had hit us had the same first name as my grandma AND the same initials. Point. Taken. I've given up something every year since and have never had anymore trouble finding the grandparent's resting place. (Hell hath no fury like a Catholic, Mexican matriarch. Well played grandma.)
While part of my reason for giving something up is that parking lot incident, a lot of it now has to do with other beliefs I have. Plus, it's not going to kill you to give up something you've grown too attached to for forty days. The problem this year is that there's no bad or so-so habit for me to give up. What's that you say? Don't I drink too much coffee? No. I've actually lightened up on the coffee lately because I don't have as much of a taste for it. Candy? Don't eat much of that anymore either. I don't drink much soda. I'm considering latching onto this thing that my mom has done for years, which is picking up a good habit rather than giving up a bad one. I guess I could take up running, or start meditating again (or both). I don't know. Still wrapping my head around Lent being one week away. How did I miss that? If you have any suggestions grandma, feel free to give me another (but please less expensive) sign. After all, it could be my last Lenten season with the Rapture being right around the corner and all.
