What if God is on Social Media?

"Christ has no online presence but yours.

No blog, no Facebook post on earth but yours.

Yours are the tweets through which love touches the world.

Yours are the post through which the Gospel is spread.

Yours are the updates through which God blesses the world.

Christ has no online presence but yours."

- Sr. Rose Pacatte, FSP

     Last week, I had the blessed opportunity to present a portfolio of all my best work from my graduate studies to a prestigious board of professors and doctors of Theology. As I was reviewing all of my best work, I was surprised at the common theme throughout my writing: women's role in the Catholic Church. Women, in general, have been the spotlight in almost every recent big news coverage. Feminism has been given plenty of new definitions and yet, there are still a plethora of women who are still struggling to find their place in it all. I am a millennial, I am part of the Social Media generation, and I am a firsthand witness to the brokenness of the world.
     In discussing this common theme, I was ask by the board to consider, given all that I have learned, discovered and researched, how faith informs culture and vice versa. In reflecting on this, I found myself writing away at how faith can heal and reconcile the brokenness of the world. I focused on my role as Campus Minister at an all girls' school and the conversations I often am privy, too. Students express brokenness of all kinds, sometimes without even recognizing themselves doing so. My students are stressed out by the world of academia, they feel extreme pressures to perform according to unwritten codes of Instagram and Visco, they are inundated with standards presented to them by the media, they are constantly told what they should be like, not appreciated for the truth of what they already are like. The truth is, their experience of culture is very broken. And so the experience of faith, which I can give to them via retreats, Liturgies, Sacramental opportunities and more, play a huge part in the beginning of repairing the effects of that brokenness in their lives. I know this because they express this to me.
     As I look back, I am critical of my response. I only chose to defend how faith can inform culture, specifically through the lens of reparation, reconciliation and healing. At the end of my presentation, one of my professors encouraged me to consider how culture might inform faith in the same way, especially given the fact that the entirety of my presentation focused on women's role in the Church. I have been thinking of this challenge to consider faith's brokenness and how culture might influence it. I have also been side by side considering what is happening in our secular world today, especially for women. Should these topics be compartmentalized or rather, can they even be separated from one another. As a human being who is both woman and Catholic, I feel torn. And yet, perhaps I should be uplifted.

       In addition to these thoughts rattling around in my brain and my making sense of them, I attended the annual Edith Stein Lecture at my alma mater, Immaculata University. This lecture has been taking place over a number of years and each year, I feel my faith being stretched in beautiful ways. Last night's topic was "Faith and Social Media," and the speaker was a Daughter of Saint Paul, S. Rose Pacatte. She approached the topic, not as a non-millennial whose life is seemingly disrupted by the use of Social Media, as many who came before me are. But rather, she focused on how one could utilize Social Media to spread the Gospel. It was then that I started to connect the dots. Catholicism and those in the older generations have contributed the brokenness of culture to the constant use of Social Media. Students don't speak to one another, there's not place for Social Media during Mass and because of this, Social Media has contributed highly, if not wholly, to the complete disarray of our world. One could use many examples to back up this theory. And yet, while she did not say it, as S. Rose was speaking, I felt that she very easily could have said that faith is broken, just as much as culture.
     It may be controversial to say, but from my personal perspective, I can very easily see the brokenness of my faith. I have seen and am still seeing many of my peers leaving the church. They say there is no room for women in the Church. They question how one can continue to be a faithful Catholic in light of the sexual abuse scandal. They express concern for how millennials can practice a faith that seems to have nothing to support their experience of culture. I hear them. I see exactly what they say. And yet, if my faith hadn't saved me from the brokenness of our culture when it did, I would be in the same position. But I am not. When I say I am Catholic, others wonder how I can still be one. When I say I am a feminist, others have painted a picture of me that certainly does not line up with my Catholic faith. When I say I am a Catholic feminist, others roll their eyes in confusion - how can I be both?
     Faith, as I have said, was integral in my filtering of culture. It allowed me to heal the confusion within: when faith tells me one thing and culture says another, which do I choose? Faith gave me the hope that there is room for women theologians, for deeper women's spirituality, for women's involvement in the rearing of Mother Church. Faith gave me the understanding I would need to accept culture for the goodness it had but also to disregard its evil. So now, here I am on the flip-side. I am not blind to the brokenness I see inside my own faith structure; I am more privy to it because I am within. But I am also outside of the faith, when I view the untruths of secular culture. So is there a place for me? And is there a place for Social Media to heal our broken faith? Last night's lecture told me yes. More than ever before there is a place.
     S. Rose quoted her community's founder and said, "if the Church is not there, we do not exist" in reference to Social Media. I have never been bashful about posting my Catholic practices on Social Media, I mean honestly, I've had this blog for what seems like one hundred years. But most people my age are not reading blogs. They are viewing images on Instagram and content on Facebook. In my humble opinion, Twitter is basically dead and if not, will be by the end of this presidency (no one cares that much). I have often "checked in" at church (because, yes Dad, I am still attending weekly Mass). I have posted uplifting messages in support of peers who are going through a hard time. I have shared posts by my home parish, by religious communities or by technological religious figureheads. I have re-tweeted, re-grammed and shared a billion things. Yet, is it enough. Am I only scratching the surface of allowing culture and my use of Social Media to help mend the brokenness of my faith.
     In the end, I came to the conclusion that no, I am not doing enough. I can do so much better with my posts. I have such a unique position in the sense that I love my faith, despite the Church's faults, because my experiences are much different than those who have seemingly be marginalized for a plethora of reasons. I must share the goodness of the Church and I can do it via the venues my peers use on the daily. I can use Social Media as a forum for discussion and faith-formation. I fill my instagram story with more than images of my dog and my husband (and also my baking adventures....). And the thing I think I must be better at doing is not only expressing the fact that I am praying for others, but asking publicly for prayer. I am strong, but I am also weak. I need the support as much as I can give it.
     I have no one hundred percent come to the conclusion of the relationship between faith and culture, mostly because I am living in it as it grows and changes. But I do feel as if now, culture can and should inform faith, especially via the venues of social media. As broken as our culture is, our faith is also broken. But as beautiful as our faith can be, so also can our use of social media be. Be the positive driving force today. And please, if you have the chance, prayer for me, too.

I Am So Much More

"We invoke Christian unity because we we invoke Christ. 

We want to live unity: we want to follow Christ and live in His love."

- Pope Francis via @pontifex

     I am 24 years old. By stereotype, I should have a big ego, be concerned about all the right things, and be a protester in my spare time. At least, this is what the media shows me. But instead I am a Pro-Life, Catholic, feminist woman. To so many, this is an oxymoron, because how can I simply be all four of those things? They do not seem to go together. In fact, it seems impossible that it could be so. But I write this blog post after two weeks of personal reflection and lots of prayer. I feel I need to do this. 

    Yesterday, I traveled down to Washington, D.C. and participated in the Annual March for Life. I was there with a colleague and four students. I was there with my extended family members and my immediate family members. I was there with religious brothers and sisters. I was there with Catholics, Christians and non-Christians. I was there with men, women, and children. And I was there with people who do not share my perspective. There was no violence, there was no harm, there was no hatred. I was surrounded by peace and prayer. And yet, I know that it is so hard for many to support me in what I did yesterday.

     Catholics and Christians who consider themselves Pro-Life have been under fire. I have felt the heat of this fire so directly but not in a harsh way. I see it on the internet, on Facebook and Twitter. Things being shared that say, "Dear 15 year old me, I'm sorry you marched for life," "Pro-Life is only Pro-baby," and my favorite, "Don't call yourself a Christian if you are Pro-Life but not Pro-child" (because I'm not really sure what that means!). I read these, I listen to the perspectives of the authors, and I scroll past. I wonder what happened to these people that gave them such a negative perspective of someone like me. I sometimes think, they can't be talking about me. BUT they are. Even those who once considered themselves Catholic post these things and I wonder, how it got this way. Perhaps it's not direct, but I feel the heat of these misconceptions. 

    Let's go back in my personal history for a second; let me tell you who I was and who I've become. I marched for life as a high school student and as a college student. Each time I only went with a few of my friends, because most of my friends didn't share the same perspective. I was never heckled for this and we never engaged in arguments. I have friends now who may not agree with my perspective and yet, I can respect them and they respect me. I also teach high school Theology, specifically Human Sexuality and Social Justice. Because of my experiences, I would say that this is the perfect position for me. Yet I do so with the understanding that the students who sit before may have warped perspectives of Catholicism, may not be Catholic or may have been in situations that seemingly the church may be against. I teach the doctrine of the Catholic Church with gentleness and compassion. It is not treading lightly, but rather doing all this with Love. 

     Now let's talk Jesus. He's my main dude. My students fondly refer to Him as a hipster because He broke stereotypes left, right and sideways. Yet, He did so with Love. That is my call, our call as Catholics. To preach the Gospel with Love, gentleness and compassion. This is something I remind my students daily, especially as we talk about the tough topics. It seems these days, there are more and more tough topics. 

    Catholics have a core belief called, "Catholic Social Teaching." There are seven pillars of CST and all of the social justice topics that have been mentioned these past few weeks in the news are in there. Being Pro-Life is the basis of this core belief and I'm going to briefly explain what that means in the next few paragraphs. Because truthfully, it hurts my heart to hear and see such a bad reputation given to Pro-Lifers. And since I was part of the age group that was the greatest represented yesterday at the March for Life, I need to. 

    Pro-Life is, by definition, "respect for life from conception to natural death." Now, I could give you the scientific reasoning behind why life begins at conception but I'll refrain; there's enough of that out there. But let's start at the basis of the belief. Historically speaking, Pro-Life is most often paralleled with the Supreme Court Ruling of Roe v. Wade which legalized abortion in the United States. Yes, the March for Life is the annual march against this ruling. Yes, it began as a movement to protect the unborn. But no, it is not just the abortion issue. Roe v. Wade took place in 1973. Catholic Social Teaching started forming as a core belief with "The Just War Theory" during the Medieval Ages with St. Joan of Arc and continued with documents like Rerum Novarum in 1891 and so on. CST has been around much longer. Being Pro-life has been a Catholic concept for much longer than 44 years. 

    The Just War Theory is just one of many concepts within Catholic Social Teaching that exhibits the Pro-Life atmosphere of the Catholic Church. The Just War Theory states that unless absolutely necessary, after every peaceful approach has been considered and failed, and if a country or community is in extreme danger should war be declared. Thank you, Joan of Arc, for giving us guidelines for war which basically state that at all costs war should be avoided unless deemed absolutely necessary for protection of human beings. 

     In addition to the Just War Theory there are many other beliefs in CST that state concepts like, "welcoming the stranger and the refugee." If countries in power have the means, the space and the power, countries are obligated by moral reasoning to welcome the refugee with open arms and to protect them from the oppressor. We should also be providing a proper wage for all people to live with all their necessities; there should be no struggle because of low wages. There should be proper healthcare available for all people. There should be no segregation. There should be no racism, sexism, ageism. We should protect the environment and by doing so, protect those who rely on the environment (hey, that's us and all humans because we need oxygen). AND. SO. MUCH. MORE. 

     Yet, I fall into the category, because I proclaim myself Pro-Life, that is none of the above. But, I, in fact, very much am Pro-Life in all of these ways and more. I believe that all human beings, regardless of their distinctions, deserve fair treatment, fair wages, fair opportunities, and fair access to life's necessities. I believe this because I AM A PRO-LIFE, CATHOLIC WOMAN! Yes, this is why. Because my faith is my firm foundation and it is a core belief of my faith to live socially just. 

      Now, of course, I know that so many, perhaps, would still argue that I cannot possibly still be a feminist if I am pro-life and Catholic, especially because stereotypically speaking, the Catholic Church appears to be repressive of women. I beg to differ. I have been elevated to such high esteem by my Church for so many reasons. In fact, I would venture to say that I feel liberated by my Catholic faith as a woman, which is not the common perspective. But here is why being Pro-Life, Catholic and Feminist has led me to feel this way. 

     Now I do not have the time or your attention span long enough to put two courses of material summed up in one blog post. But I can say this. My Catholic faith has led me to believe that I deserve better in terms of my sexuality. I deserve better than to be given birth control as my only options for many health problems (especially because it can lead a woman into even more health problems when she and her spouse attempt to conceive a child). It has taught me that I deserve better than the health care provided at Planned Parenthood (so many of my friends have given me first hand accounts of the lack of health care provided but also the unfair treatment and down right cruelty experienced there). It has taught me that I deserve better than to have my self-worth lie solely in my sexual liberation. Finally, it has taught me that I deserve much better and my future daughters (and sons) deserve much better than to be considered choices. Women deserve better, on this I agree. But we must look for what the better actually is. 

    These past two weeks have been so politically charged and I don't think there will be a calm anytime soon. It has been one thing after the next. But I can promise to my God that I will continue to do what I can to further the Pro-Life message. Every life deserves rights but the greatest right is to live a life to it's fullness. This means, the unborn being born, the refugee and the immigrant being welcome, the homeless being housed, the women being given proper healthcare, the environment being protected and so much more. So please, know that I, as a Pro-Life, Catholic, Feminist Woman stand for the betterment of life for all. Please do not put me in a box created by the media. I am not just pro-baby. I am so much more. I am a sanctuary, a living tabernacle of life.

Feeling Popeful and Courageous

"First, those words – “What about you?” – were addressed to a young person, a young woman with high ideals, and they changed her life. They made her think of the immense work that had to be done, and to realize that she was being called to do her part. How many young people in our parishes and schools have the same high ideals, generosity of spirit, and love for Christ and the Church! I ask you: Do we challenge them? Do we make space for them and help them to do their part? To find ways of sharing their enthusiasm and gifts with our communities, above all in works of mercy and concern for others? Do we share our own joy and enthusiasm in serving the Lord?"

- Pope Francis' Address at the Cathedral Basilica of Sts. Peter and Paul, Philadelphia 2015

      This time last week, I was still beaming from my popeful week. I had spent the week doing various activities downtown during the World Meeting of Families, taking the train on various excursions (and running to catch the trains because I can't do SEPTA like a normal Philadelphian), and staking out my plot of fence on the parkway so I could see the Pope not once but twice. The streets were empty of cars, but everywhere there were people. Kind, wonderful, gentle people. Philadelphia had transformed into the City of Brotherly Love and Sisterly Affection. It was fascinating. 

      In school the entire week we were focusing on the words of Pope Francis, accepting Papal Challenges and re-tweeting various Campus Ministry tweets. We only had three class days and so the students' energy was at an all time high. While I wasn't doing Campus Minister things, I was spending time on my own exploring what was offered at night time for the World Meeting of Families. Wednesday Night I found myself at an event called "Club Francis" where the bouncers were the Swiss Guards. Ok, they weren't real Swiss Guards and they actually weren't even bouncers, but hey, they tried. This was a young adult three day event which focused on various different themes and speakers. The night I was there focused on Courage and featured four religious (priests, sisters, and a seminarian). I was awe-inspired, despite the lateness of the event, and very much felt the theme of Courage pouring into my heart. 

      The second night of my Popeful week was spent downtown again but this time at the Cathedral Basilica. We decided to take the train from my hometown to give it a dry run before we utilized it as our main transportation during the Papal Visit. The conductor reminded us that SEPTA was stopping transportation from that station at 10:00 pm for security reasons. The last train out to my hometown would be at 9:57pm. Plenty of time, we thought. We found ourselves helping some precious lost Sisters find the cathedral. We had originally planned to attend a lecture on St. Therese and her parents and also visit with her relics. However, we stopped first at the knotted grotto which was crowded beyond belief. It was so beautiful and amazing to see so many people, families, young and old, praying at the knotted grotto. We walked through peacefully and found ourselves in the Adoration Chapel. Right before 7:30, a Sister walked by and asked if we would like to  stay for a holy hour. Without thinking, I right away said yes for the both of us.
      The Holy Hour began with Sisters of various different communities leading our community in song. So many of the songs were laced with the theme of courage. My eyes filled with tears at the glory of the Lord. Also during Holy Hour we sang the Divine Mercy Chaplet and listened to many reflections on religious life and the family. I knew that we would be missing the talk on St. Therese and her family, but I felt so incredibly called by God to stay for an hour of Adoration. We stayed the whole time and by the time the prayers were over, it was 8:45. It was so beautiful to see so many families and religious praying together. It was a taste of Heaven on earth.
      After going to the Cathedral the catch up with my friend St. Therese (AKA Sister Kim), we walked down the parkway to see how far we could go before security kicked us out. We wound up getting very close to the main altar before having to turn around. As I looked at my watch, I soon realized we only had a few minutes to get to our train. That would have been fine if we both hadn't been super hungry. So it was a scene out of a movie with us running in and out of the wawa and then to the train. Trying every door to the station which had been locked thanks to security and then finally finding an open one that dropped us right off at the platform as the train was pulling into the station. I sat and took a deep breath once we were on the train and then started laughing. It was humorous actually and I loved every moment.
      The next morning, I headed down into the city with my little sister and my dad. We walked around the city, went to Mass at St. John the Evangelist and even saw the body of St. Maria Goretti which was extremely pivotal for my younger sister. We attended Mass and visited the body with Sister Kim. Lizzie, my younger sister, is preparing for Confirmation this year and we've been talking about different saints for her to chose as her patron. For a long time she was considering St. Therese, but after seeing St. Maria Goretti and doing some research, she's now thinking about her, too. We finished our day with getting lunch at Reading Terminal. We decided that it was better if we headed home early so we could get a good night's rest before heading to the Parkway for the Festival of Families the next day.
      That night a number of my friends and I camped out in the backyard and had a pizza and slumber party. The next morning, we were up early, dressed and at the train station by 8:00. We packed a blanket, drinks, lunch and snacks. We were ready to go. We hopped aboard the train and when we got through security, we found a nice grassy plot of ground in front of a fence. If we wanted any shot of seeing the Pope, this was a good spot. We spent the day listening to the concert, meeting all our closest friends on the parkway and eating snacks and lunch. It was a beautiful day. Around 6:00pm, the crowds starting forming closer and closer to the fence. We were so scrunched up against each other, you would have though the Pope was coming...oh wait. During the whole hour of waiting, there was music, prayer, and chanting for the Pope. Finally, the lights and security was coming. Finally, the Pope was on his way. And at a wonderful 35 mph, the Pope went speeding by. Luckily for us, we caught a picture.
       After the prayer service, we headed home and most of my friends went back to their houses for the night. The next morning, we boarded the trains again and this time, waited almost three hours in the security line. But it was worth it. When we finally made our way into the parkway, we found a group of my Nazareth Sisters who invited us to stay with them. We waited hours before Mass to begin. And right before Mass, the Pope went around the parkway again. This time much slower which allowed for a few good pictures but also for me to wave and smile at the Pope. I think he looked right at us. It was amazing.
        The most amazing part of the weekend, for me, however, was the celebration of the Mass on the parkway. Over 800,000 people were gathered there and the reverence was beyond description. You could easily hear a pin drop the entire Mass. There were people gathered on every square foot of the parkway, craning their necks to see the jumbotron or just listening. People sang, people participated in the Mass, the entire parkway knelt at the consecration of the Eucharist. It was beautiful. However, during Mass, the most beautiful moment was watching the priests and deacons process down the parkway with their papal umbrellas. You see, just moments before the Pope was riding down the same street and the crowds were cheering louder than ever. Now, Jesus, the most important person of our faith was in His body on the same path. I looked and felt, "this is my Jesus; He has come to the streets." We received the Eucharist and so many people were able to receive the Blessed Sacrament. The reverence was beautiful.
       Towards the end of Communion, it seemed that the music just ended abruptly or that our sound from our jumbotron was cut off. People kept singing anyway. I had tears streaming down my face at a rapid pace. I could not describe the overwhelming feeling of power and grace that swept over me. It was amazing. I looked around at all the people there, people of every faith and race and nationality. God had brought us all together.
      At the end of the day, it took us only about an hour and a half to get home. Behind us on the train was a baby that had been kissed and blessed by the Pope. I watched his departure via my phone and was asleep in my bed by 8:30. I was exhausted and yet, it was a most amazing experience. Many times I was pinching myself as if to say, is this real? Truly the most Holy Father was among our people in Philadelphia. Truly Philadelphia was a nicer place to be for the past week. Truly so many people were positively affected by his visit. And I was so blessed to be among the crowds. Where two or three are gathered, there He shall be.

Til Death Do Us Part: Fifty Years Strong

"I never thought we'd make it this far, 

given the track record of our parents and family.

But we made it and I am so blessed.

God, I love this man."

- Mommom Reichardt

      Marriage. It's something I don't know too much about, right? I'm not married now, nor will I be in the near future if ever, to a man on this earth. I am twenty years old and so, that's expected. However, at twenty years old, my grandmother, Evelyn, was already married for two years, had a baby and another on the way. Apparently, to get married at 18 was a huge scandal in the Catholic Church back in 1963. But although her father couldn't walk her down the aisle because of this, she still went and married my grandfather. And for fifty, long years they have been married. It's been a tough road, but they still made it. They took that vow, "til death do us part" pretty seriously, and I couldn't be any more proud of my grandparents.

     Yesterday, a few members of our extended Reichardt family gathered in honor of my grandparents. There was food everywhere, kids everywhere, love everywhere. Oh and plenty of "tweetable" moments. However, the real party didn't start til my Mommom and Poppop walked through the door to see a crowd of people standing there. Although the beans had been spilled to my Poppop, my Mommom was still surprised. From that moment, it was a loud, hustling, bustling party. When half the family is Italian, that kind of happens. 

      Half way through the party, my Mommom's best friend pulled me aside and asked if I could sing for her. Clare asks me every single time I see her if I would sing for her. I usually always say no. I usually just can't sing on the spot; I get, too nervous. Yet, this time, she wanted me to do it for my grandmother. And so, a half hour later, Clare made an announcement that something big was going to happen. So, I stood there, in the corner of my aunt's kitchen and sang "Wing Beneath My Wings" by Better Midler (yes, I know who she is....) for my grandparents. When I finished my extremely shaky and falsetto performance, I took the deepest breath. What did my grandmother have to say? "That was the first time I've heard you sing in over three years." 

      It was true, once I graduated grade school, I stopped solo performances except at the bi-annual family reunion. Once I graduated high school, I stopped altogether. Performing vocally actually makes me sick to my stomach nervous. It always has and it probably always will. Even when I sing at church (every.single.Sunday.) I have to put myself through mental preparation to get the nervousness to go away. It never really does. But whenever I sing for my grandmother, those feelings always seem to go away. If I can make eye contact with her in a huge crowd, I will be fine. She has always been my support and always will be.

      For years, my Mommom has always had a subtle hint of support for the religious life future for me. It has never actually been brought up with that side of the family, since religion is such a sore topic, but every so often, when it's just me and Mommom, she will say, I think you're deep faith is beautiful and I wish I had that or I support you if that's the future you might want. For years, up until yesterday, I really thought my grandmother was Evangelical still. Having grown up in that faith, she often brought up what church was like for her as a kid. My grandfather is Catholic, and honestly, the only time I have seen them in a church in my life time was for our Baptisms, Communions, Graduations, and Confirmations. I'm pretty sure they aren't practicing Catholics. Yet, there was always something in my Mommom, that if I was up and needed to go to church, she'd take me. I always thought this was strange. 

       If she was Evangelical, wouldn't it be weird for her to be in a Catholic Church? Why wasn't Poppop taking me to church? I just never understood it as a kid. What I also didn't get was how my Mommom seemed to be the most understanding of the "nun thing." How did she seem to understand more than any of my Catholic family members? How come she was always more than willing to pray Night Prayer with me and the sisters over Skype? How come she was the most excited to meet my "nun friends"? None of this made any sense to me until last night when I was looking through the photo album with my Great Aunt Bunny (her real name is Mildred Olga....).

       Someone had brought all the wedding photos from fifty years ago of my Grandparent's wedding. I had already fallen in love with their actual wedding picture, but being a lover of "old" photography, I quickly fell in love with each of the photos I was holding in my hand. I asked my Aunt Bunny why she wasn't the Maid of Honor and she said because she wasn't Catholic. I didn't know that was a thing back then. She then added that it was because of that reason, my Mommom converted to Catholicism..... SHE WHAT?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?! Imagine my shock when all my life, I grew up thinking that my Mommom was evangelical and had no idea how the Catholic Church worked. Yeah...I was wrong for a good twenty years. Good job, Bec, I congratulated myself. Good job! It all suddenly made sense. 

       I looked back on everything with this new view of my Grandmother. As I watched my grandparents interact throughout the night, it was easy to say, my Mommom was a woman of class as she followed so many "well-known" party protocol. She was also a woman of devotion both to her husband, her children, her grand-children and the rest of her family. She was also devoted to breaking the stereotype and plague of divorce in the family. But finally she was a woman of love and deep faith. I also saw her as a woman of faith, but even more so now. I was literally in so much shock!

       In addition to learning something new about my grandparents, I was so blessed to watch them stuff cake in each other's faces, kiss after their "testimony" of marriage and enjoy the family. My grandparents literally gave me so much hope that marriage can defy odds. Even as they were growing up, they lived in a culture of divorce. Yet, they made it fifty years. FIFTY LONG YEARS! We live in a culture of divorce now, where it's strange to say I live with both my mom and dad. But if they can defeat the odds, so can my generation. They are the example of what it takes to make marriage work. And I couldn't be more proud to be called their granddaughter! 

      Congrats on Fifty Years Mommom and Poppop! Here's to another fifty! Til death do you part! 

Aren't they still precious?!

Aunt Bunny!

Clare!

Oh and then this one...where my best friend looks like my grandfather. WEIRD!