This weekend Marco had his first communion.
For those of you who know me well, my relationship with religion is a tricky one. I struggle with “blind faith”. I believe in spiritual living and in the spirit of religion and the teachings of Jesus and Allah and th Buddha. I will leave my thoughts on religion for another post.
For today, let me reflect on Marco’s first communion.
Watching my wild haired and spirited boy, eager to wear blue jeans to his first communion (we didn’t let him) live through his special day made me smile.
I couldn’t help but be consumed by the thought of my own first communion literally 40 years ago, and the on-going struggle that my father has and I have at times had with my Americanization.
I think as time goes on, both my father and I have come to better terms with my “Americanization”.
Quick trip down memory lane. The year was 1974. I still lived in Peru. And, because we were moving to the USA, my parents got me into the first communion program early. I was 6.
I remember getting all dressed up. I got to wear a bow tie! My father put special stuff in my hair to keep it down ;-) I had a photographer take pictures of me (that had never happened before). My parents had little cards printed with my name on them and the date of my first communion. They were laminated and in color. We had a huge party. All of my family was in attendance, probably like 50 people. Everyone was so proud. It was such a special day. We planned for it for months.
I remember the Monday after my first communion, I asked my dad to go to church because I wanted to take communion again. I felt so crazy special…
Now, flip forward 40 years… It’s Marco’s first communion. We have been taking him to Sunday school since September to get ready. It was Wednesday last week when Susy sent me a text… “MARCO’S FIRST COMMUNION IS THIS SUNDAY!!!!!” Oops I should have known that!! I thought it was in May. I am glad Susy caught it! So, on top of his basketball tournament, we need to make sure we make first communion happen this weekend.
It was just the 5 of us… the fab 5 Benavides sprinting as usual to one more event. And, I loved being together. We went to church. Nicholas and I talked about a few projects while we waited for church to start, Lucas was accolighting, and Marco was having his first communion.
I smiled often as I thought about all of it.
It was an important day for Marco and for all of us, but what consumed me was so many comments that I could hear my father saying or thinking had he been with me.
In America the family is so “immediate”… we don’t have the dimension and the color and the dynamics of a more extended family.
TRUE THAT! But, that doesn't mean that our expanded family is not important in any way... they are just farther away. Geographic proximity is a blessing of life in Lima.
Years ago, I would have been torn…
Years ago, I would have felt all that was “missing” from this day…
Years ago, I would have felt like I failed to give my parents what they deserved on this day…
Years ago, I would have felt like I failed to give Marco the full experience of a first communion…
Years ago, the reality of the compromises of my life would have weighed heavily on me.
Yesterday, I was happy to be with my family. I was proud of Marco. I was exactly where I needed to be.
So, what happened?
Sure, I loved my experience of my first communion. It was an amazing memory.
But, it was MY memory. It was MY life. It was MY culture. It was MY reality, NOT Marco’s.
As parents, or grandparents, or managers, or husbands, or friends… we create such disharmony when we WISH upon others OUR expectations.
This has been something that my father struggled with tremendously years ago.
He wanted me to live his life.
He wanted me to value what he valued.
He wanted me to fall in love with the girls that he liked.
He wanted me to live my life how he thought it should be lived… and in many ways, how he lived his.
That’s a WHOLE LOTTA WISHING… and its not unusual.
We know what we know… and we convince ourselves that what we know is best… so we want for others what we know for ourselves…
The absolute truth is that we are all on our own journey. Every journey is unique. Every journey is free to struggle with its own suffering and enjoy its own celebration.
True – Marco only had 5 people at his special day yesterday… but it was the 5 people he knows love him more than anything in the world. He shares a relationship and a realith with those 5 people, that I never knew as a child.
And, in a few weeks, Marco will be traveling to Peru with us and seeing his extended family, that will never mean to him what it meant to me. It will mean what it means to him, which is fun and interesting and loving and unique to him.
True – Our lives are much more harried than my life was as a kid…
And, it is harried full of things that he enjoys… basketball, school, soccer, friends… all things that we are blessed to have and blessed to give him
True – He wore a tie and didn’t comb his hair and we had no photographers…
And, he has had more pictures taken of him in his life thusfar, than I probably have in a lifetime. And, I took a picture of him and Nicholas and his mom, where the three of them look fantastic and happy. And, he wore a tie… which is a massive accomplishment.
True – Religion doesn’t mean to him at this time, what it meant to me at that time…
And, that is ancient history. I am a much better and more enlightened human being today than I have ever been. And, he is benefiting from an upbringing that is unique to him. He knows right from wrong. He is an honest, caring, intelligent and blessed young man, and his values are lovely and still forming. And, I believe his understanding of religion and Christianity will grow as he gets older and will not attempt to cross the chasm that it crossed for me.
My point, again, is not to talk about religion, but to talk about trying to mirror our expectations onto others… be it our kids, our friends, our employees…
Harmony is about embracing that each one of us gets to enjoy and suffer through our own unique journey…
When we create “the way things should be” based on our experiences or our own expectations… we should be careful…
It steals from us the ability to enjoy the ride as it is… because we keep wishing it was different.
It fills us with guilt or concern about our inability to deliver something which very well may never have been meant to be…
There is no part of me that wishes my children to suffer exactly what I suffered, or to enjoy exactly as I enjoyed.
I want to expose them to things, and I will respect that they will decide what to embrace.
I want to push them to be the most that they can be, and I will respect that they will decide exactly how far to soar.
I want to push them to be aware and be engaged, and I will respect that they will ultimately decide how much to care…
I want to push them to understand happiness, and I will work to my very last breath to help them understand and embrace harmony… in their own way… in their own truth… toward their own dreams…
I no longer feel guilt…
I no longer waste time on wishing life was different…
I am working too hard and being grateful for all that I have, all that I am, and all that I have left to be…
Last night, I went into Marco's room and laid down by his side. I love you more than words can say, I told him. I hugged him.
He hugged me back... "I know Daddy"... "I love you too"...
It was the perfect first communion day ;-)
First in harmony,
Nestor