Celeb Status

"True humility is not thinking less of yourself;

it's thinking of yourself less."

C.S. Lewis

"A picture is worth a thousand words and YOU have two pictures."

- Princess Diaries

    I was out for the count for my post-Mass nap. As I was laying in bed, my phone started going off. I thought it was my alarm and thought, it couldn't possibly be an hour gone by yet. I pick my phone up off of my dresser and look at it: emails, facebook posts, texts all congratulating me on something. Confused, as anyone would be upon being woken up in a stupor, I began to read the notifications. "Great article! Congrats!" everyone seemed to be saying. I was still confused. Then I got a forwarded email with a link to an article. Suddenly, I realized this article was all about me. 

    Six and a half years ago, I found myself in Sister David's office. Although she was the disciplinarian at the time, I was not in her office because I had racked up too many demerits. Earlier in the week, I had left a letter on her desk mentioning that I maybe was possibly thinking about religious life. She read the letter and within a few class periods stopped me in the hallway to ask me to visit her the next day. Needless to say, I was terrified. Despite the fact that she was my teacher the year before, I was suddenly scared out of my mind. What was she going to tell me? 

     We sat adjacent to each other in her office. I could barely speak and I know I was nauseous because I was so nervous, so she did most of the talking. Out of all the things she said to me, what I will always remember is this: she took my arm and pinched my skin a little bit while saying, "Bec, you and I are the same flesh and blood. Sisters are just as human as you are on the outside. But on the inside, I'm experiencing something you want - God's love." I'm sure I was beaming ear to ear when I left her office - she supported me. 

      Later that night I remember thinking, oh well duh, of course she supports me - she's a nun. I began to think about what all my friends would say, what my family would say. No one entered the convent anymore as far I knew. All the Sisters I knew were (sorry, Sisters), were my grandparents' and parents' ages. There I was, a 15 year old girl, wanting to be a Sister. I couldn't possibly tell anyone because the would most likely tell me it was a dumb decision, not good for me, etc. However, slowly but surely I began to mention the possibility of being a sister to my friends. And when I did, I was met with nothing but support. 

     The idea of being a Sister is never something I've flaunted. I've been honest about it when people ask, but usually I'm not the one who brings it up. Unless, of course, I happen to randomly meet some nuns during my day. Then, I always ask them to keep me in their prayers as discernment in today's day and age isn't easy. But other than this blog, which I started for the sole reason to keep my family members and friends informed of my journey, I don't usually proclaim "Oh hey, I wanna be a nun" to the world. It brings way too much attention to me and away from God. 

     When Sister Kim called me one random day during Spring Break to tell me that she dropped my name to a journalist who writes for the Inquirer, I got nervous. Yet, I truly believe that God sets all things up as His plan for me, so I went with it. The next thing I know, I was on the phone with the journalist planning a date to meet at school. Within the next week, the two of us were sitting in the Gabriele Library at Immaculata and I was sharing my story. My story ... my story. Suddenly someone was interested in my story and there I was telling it. 

     There's a part of me that really debated whether or not I wanted to share my story. For one, it would mean a lot of focus on me and that's not something I do well. But more importantly, it was the concept of being vulnerable. I knew that the Philadelphia Inquirer was a big deal and sharing my story with the journalist meant sharing it with the world. Was I ready to allow myself that vulnerability? It wasn't as if it was an unleashing of a secret (or so I thought...); this was something I so passionately live out in my day to day life. Yet, I hadn't even shared parts of my story with my closest friends or with some of the sisters. But, like I said earlier, God set this up; I had to go with it. 

     The next week they asked me to go "be natural" and have my picture taken. I'm sorry to admit, my pictures aren't exactly "natural." Me being natural is terrifying...okay, but really, my hair is usually in a pony-tail or bun, I'm usually in yoga pants or leggings, and most days I'm too lazy to put makeup on. But for the world, I made myself somewhat presentable. As we walked into the library, I asked the photographer if she wanted a nun in the pictures. When she said yes, I used a not so library tone voice to ask Sister Annette if she wouldn't mind modeling with me. She laughed and agreed right away and to make things interesting, she not only posed with the IHM Community History book, but she also read it outloud to me. I was laughing so hard, it's a wonder my picture wasn't me with my mouth wide open. Regardless, it was an interesting moment in my life and thankfully no one stopped me to ask why I was being photographed in the library. 

     Weeks past and in all the busy-ness of my last semester, I kind of forgot about the article even coming out. That was until my phone started blowing up Wednesday morning, waking me up from my post-Mass nap. Suddenly, I was overwhelmed with the amount of publicity this article was getting. University communications hopped right on it and not only emailed it to the entire faculty but also posted it on the Facebook page. In addition, my alma mater posted it on their Facebook page. I stopped counting how many times people tagged me in their sharing of the post on Facebook. Even today, when I scroll down my Facebook page, it's a million pictures of my face. Administrators of IU were emailing me, congratulating me, and students who I had never had more than a simple conversation with, stopped me on campus to thank me for my witness. Of course, the nuns could always be counted on for some sass as a few of them stopped me to ask for my autograph. I was given so many hugs, so much outpouring of love and of course, the sassiness from my best friends telling me to take a look at the comments of the article to get a laugh. (SIDENOTE: apparently I'm a really cute nun wanna-be). 

      What fascinated me was a few things. First of all: the length of the article and the beautiful positive reception it was gaining. I had been so nervous about sharing my story and I couldn't help but smile because I knew God was using it as a means to spread the Gospel. Second of all: the amount of people on campus that didn't know about my discernment. I realize that I don't flaunt it or shout it out from the rooftops, but I thought I wore my heart on my sleeve. My favorite comment was from my Sophomore Spanish professor who said, "I never knew but you know what, it makes sense." I couldn't help but laugh and thank him. Students and faculty members I didn't really know were suddenly hugging me and asking me to share even more of my story. I was amazed. By Wednesday night, I was exhausted. 

     It didn't end there, however, because yesterday at work the nunnies were prouder than a mom with a honors student, and even today, I had a few of my peers from high school friend request me so they could extend their congratulations. I've even had a few phone calls. How good this has been for my humility. Truly this has driven me to look at myself in even more a humble light. It's not every day I have nuns, students, professors knocking at the door of heart and expressing their congratulations. This has shown me that one simple word or expression can change the world. It's not about me...it's about the calling to serve God. It's about giving Him all the glory by my expression of service to Him. 

     My celeb status (I hope...) will eventually wear off but I'm sure I'll be surprised in a little while when people ask if I'm that girl from the paper. I mean even the IHM Mother General's mom saw the article and asked Sister Lorraine if she knew me. She was fascinated when she told her she had just seen me at work. Shout out to G-Mama G, you go girl! Of course, one thing I'm really excited about concerning this article is all the nunnies who are now willing to share their stories with me. Hey, I'll take all the Sister Coffee dates I can get in this last week of school. 

     It's been a blessing and truly a mark of humility but also a reminder from God that this is truly my call for greatness as a young person. God is good...all the time. All the time....God is good. Thank you for all your prayers and support. Remember: you, too, can change the world!

Princess for A Weekend

"Every girl pretends she is a princess at one point, 

no matter how little her life is like that."

- Alex Finn

 

      Ever since I was little, I loved to sing and dance and perform. I belonged on a stage. When I started school, right away people were putting me on a stage to sing and dance and entertain. I loved being in the spotlight because it was the only place I wasn't shy. In school, I was a shy child. I barely spoke, especially not during classes or in line when we were supposed to be quiet. I was shy, always hiding behind my Daddy when meeting new people. I was nice, but I was so shy. On the stage, I had no fear. I was able to take over a different persona and simply be free. I could do things on stage like belt out Ave Maria or dance or act that I could never do off the stage. And the best part? I never once experienced stage fright.

      Flash forward to college. I came out of my shell in high school and had created myself as a unique young woman. I knew what I wanted from life and I knew how to get it. I wasn't shy anymore. That was until it came time for the Fall play auditions. Me? Sing on stage? Are you nuts? Who did I suddenly turn into? I loved to sing, but something about the stage at IU scared me. Maybe it was because I wasn't a music major and felt I wouldn't fit in...or maybe I just was afraid. So, I skipped it. I got into singing for church, but it seemed that the stage fright I never experienced as a child was hitting me like a ton of bricks. I guess it had just laid dormant for so long. 

      I remember Family Weekend as a Freshman at IU. The first part of the weekend involved the annual Miss Immaculata Pageant. I watched in awe as young women spoke about how they never thought they'd get up there to do something so amazing. I thought to myself how cool it would be to do something like that. Then I reminded myself of my dormant stage fright. Four years later, I found myself pacing back stage as I got ready to perform my Miss Immaculata talent as part of the pageant my Senior year. I did what I thought I would never do. I still experienced my stage fright, but I did it. 

      If I was going to the pageant, I wanted to do something that wowed the crowds. I was already known as a singer and an actor (thank God I got back into that...) and a photographer and a dancer and a writer and the list goes on and on and on. So, I decided to do something I had never done before: Perform a dramatic monologue. I wrote the monologue one night while working at the Motherhouse, where I gain a lot of my inspiration these days and was so happy with it. It encompassed my life as a writer, a performer, a traveler, a service worker and a teacher; all the things I hold dear. The more I thought about it, the more I was confident in my decision to do Miss IU. But then reality hit me...

     The reality of the fact that I would have to actually perform my monologue in front of people on the stage. AHHHHHH! So, I did the sensible and practiced in front of people. I practiced in front of every single class of mine at the school at which I'm student teaching and when I told the Sisters at the Motherhouse I was doing this, they asked for a private showing. Well, I know that when Sister asks, you do. So, the night before Miss IU, the Sisters crowded into the Fortress Portress office and I performed for them for the first time in front of a live audience. When I finished, a few Sisters were asking for tissues. I thought they were just being dramatic but actually, I had touched a nerve in them. I had spoke about something that they could connect with. The next day, when I performed for my students, even some of them cried. I was amazed. 

     The time for the show came and we were all more excited than nervous. As I walked out on that stage in my bare feet, suddenly all the confidence of younger me filled my heart and I performed that monologue better than I had in the past two days. I couldn't help but be proud of both myself and of my peers who had all performed so well. Of course, the performance part wasn't the only thing we were being judged on but also formal wear (and our escorts) and some fishbowl questions. So, like a little princess, I was escorted by my Daddy, the only time he may ever walk me down an aisle. I listened intently as my new sisters answered our fishbowl questions proudly and could not help but smile. I was so happy to look and feel like a princess among nine other princesses. Suddenly, I was being called forth as one of the three ladies moving on to the next level. Wow. I was in shock. After a few more intense moments, my "baby bear" was named Miss Congeniality, I was named Miss Runner-Up and Jade was crowned princess of IU. I believe my face said it all, when I realized she was the winner. I was more excited than she was. 

     The next morning, my Sisters at the Motherhouse didn't cease to remind me that no matter what I was a princess. The truth is, that's exactly what I preached at the pageant. When asked what legacy I was love to leave at IU, I answered: perpetual sunshine. Of course, that being said, the sun is one star in the sky, and each and every member of IU is a shining star in my eyes. Everyone is royalty. In recent weeks, even before Miss IU, the Sisters have adapted to calling me the princess of the fortress portress. I love that. I am reminded every day at the motherhouse that I am a princess and I especially felt so that Saturday after feeling like a princess all night at Miss IU.

     The feeling of being princess didn't cease on Sunday. Perhaps this was the climax of my weekend. The closing ceremony of Family Weekend is the Fall Honors Convocation. This is the chance students get to be recognized for all their achievements. We don our Harry Potter robes which as the years progress gain more and more decoration. I was proudly carrying four cords and a bunch of pins, a true sign of three years hard work. I smiled on as each of my peers were recognized for their beautiful and wonderful achievements. Finally, I was asked to stand and be recognized from the stage. I was being awarded the St. Catherine of Alexandria Medal, the highest award given to an IU student for academic achievement and service. I was so humbled. I found out I was to be awarded this medal during my month in Peru, which is only appropro. I felt so blessed and so humbled to have so many of my supporters in attendance. Honestly, there's nothing like feeling loved.

      All past weekend I felt like such a princess. But the truth is, when I open my eyes in the morning and see the life ahead of me, I feel like a princess. The truth is, I know I am a princess for my Father is the King of Kings. I am a princess, and you are a princess or a prince. It shouldn't take winning a pageant or an award to feel like a prince or princess; you should wake up everyday feeling so blessed to be royalty. You are royalty. Of course, I am so grateful for the weekend that was spent making me feel so special. I am blessed because so many beautiful people came to support me. I am blessed to have been able to feel like such a princess. God is so good and whenever I look back to these memories, I will smile and laugh. I don't need a crown to be a princess, I was blessed with a heart of gold.

You Are My Sunshine

"What sunshine is to flowers, smiles are to humanity. 

These are but trifles, to be sure; but scattered along life's pathway, 

the good they do is inconceivable."

- Joseph Addison

     Let's state the facts: I am in college. I want to be a Sister. I have friends. During my first few weeks at IU, I was introduced by my friends from home as "Becca, the girl who wants to be a nun." While I was proud of my discernment at home, I hated being known as the girl who wanted to be a Sister at college. Why? Well, because at home, my friends had gotten to know me before I told them I was discerning. At college, my "new friends" hadn't had the chance to get to know just Becca. I wasn't outcast, but my friends now, admit to being scared of my judgment or my "holiness." It drove me nuts actually, that people felt they couldn't be themselves around me. But sooner or later, they came around. Now, my once leery friends accept and somewhat love the fact that I want to be a Sister. And I can't thank them enough for it. 

    The other day in one of my classes, one friend mentioned my wanting to be a Sister just casually, as it so often happens because no one is ashamed or scared of it anymore. In fact, it comes up somehow in almost every conversation. Whether we're in the caf, in class or just walking across campus, somehow it comes up. My friends know and accept that Mass is a priority every day for me. They accept that when I see the Sisters, I will usually run over to say hi, gives hugs and chat briefly. Often, they have been dragged into those quick chats. My friends often remind me of my future and more so, we joke about what life will be when I'm a Sister and they're all married to each other. I truly am so blessed to have such great friends and I thank God for them every day.

     When my friends joke about me being a Sister, it's usually about how I fulfil the stereotypes so perfectly, or how I'm being nunly. Of course, sometimes the joking is set aside and they ask serious questions about entrance, length of formation, name changes, sponsors, ministries, etc. which I answer as accurately as I can. Sometimes, very rarely, someone will ask me my story which I tell them willingly. They know I pray, because one time they asked if I pray all day. But I'm not quite sure they know what I pray about or pray for. In fact, I'm pretty sure they don't. And so, this one is for them. For my friends who know I pray but don't know what about. I pray for you.

     Often, I find myself with my friends, just listening or watching them interact. I love sitting in the cafeteria watching my friends laugh hysterically around the dinner table. I love when I see my friends who date hold hands and kiss each others' cheeks. I love when I can hear my friends laughing and talking down the hallway, because in all honesty, where else is it possible to live down the hall from all my best friends? I love hearing about all their successes, all their triumphs. I love going to all their sports games, their performances, their speeches. I love watching them be happy. If I could sit back and simply watch all those that I love just be happy, I would be happy for the rest of my life. Watching them interact with each other and laugh and smile just truly makes my heart smile. 

    I don't think my friends know how much I love them and how often I pray for their happiness. I don't think they understand how much their happiness, their smiles, their laughter makes me happy. But honestly, that's okay. I say it often that all I want is for all my friends to be happy doing whatever they desire with whomever they desire. This is the year, my Senior year, for me to truly watch all my friends' dreams come true. I get to see them accomplish beyond all their struggles. I get to see them finally achieve what they have been working for. Sometimes I look at my friends and wonder how God has blessed me so much. 

     In truth, whenever I see those I love, whether it's my family, my little sisters, my "big Sisters," or my Parish family, happy, I am happy. But rarely do I blog directly to my friends. They are people I want in my life for the rest of my life, I want them at my vow ceremonies, I want to see their marriages, to see their kids, to see them grow up happily and become those crazy old couples I am obsessed with. I want them to know that no matter where I am, I will always be praying for them, because their happiness means so much to me. And all of this I discovered through a packed car of all my friends just laughing on our way to "The Bucks" (more commonly known as Starbucks). I simply listened as they sang at the tops of their lungs, laughed hysterically and chatted. 

     And so, friends, this one is for you. You have supported me in ways one could never even fathom. You've accepted me and you've helped me accept me. I love you all and truly, I want you all to know that every single day of my life, since I've met you, I've prayed for your happiness, that you'll all find the perfect spouse, raise the family of your dreams, achieve the jobs you've always wanted, but most all that you maintain the happiness and carefree laughter I see and hear everyday. Sometimes, I feel like your mom when I say these things. But in all honesty, I'm your Sister and you are my sunshine; my golden sunshine. 

Neighbors Are...Methodists and Family

"You shall love your neighbor as you love yourself."

     We were hanging up balloons in the church on the pillars...well, trying to at least. We were failing miserably. The pillars were made of wood and the latex balloons just were not sticking with the scotch tape. There were three of us wrestling with the balloons and tape until finally, Miss Elaine came over to help us out. Here we were doing it all wrong...that was until, well, it popped right in her face. Oops. That's when, out of humorous distress Miss Carol exclaimed: how many United Methodists does it take to hang up a balloon? From a far, Miss Char chimed in: don't blame, her, she's a Catholic. Yep...me. 

     I have been helping out at Vacation Bible School at Wilkinson United Methodist Church for about four or five years now. It's been so many years of fun, that I can't quite remember. I know what you're all thinking: how did I, a little Catholic girl, get mixed up with all those Methodists? Well, there's a few reasons: first of all, the church was where my littlest sister went to Pre-K. Almost all the kids in Croydon go to Pre-K there. Second, both of my sisters have been participating in VBS since God knows when. Third, the church is literally right across the street from my house. And finally, Miss Elaine takes her pets to my mom's work, and off the cuff, my mom volunteered me. It's been uphill ever since. I honestly wouldn't have it any other way.

     I can remember the first moment all the volunteers found out I was the lone Catholic girl. It started with a mention that no one had ever seen me in church before. It grew to confessing I go to a different church and then quickly escalated to admitting I'm a Catholic...a proud one. I have always, since I was a little girl, been fascinated with religion. Not simply my Catholic faith, but all religions, their practices, their beliefs, everything. I immediately wanted to know everything about what it meant to be Methodist. And what could have easily turned into a "we're very different" chat, actually developed into a five year faith sharing process. 

     I love my Methodist family. I seriously just love them. Now that I've been volunteering with them a few years, being the lone Catholic girl has become a friendly joke and a beautiful thing. I can't tell you how much faith sharing I have done with these beautiful people. The only time I really do get to see them is during VBS which saddens me a bit, but alas, all in God's good time. I am constantly reminded by my dear friends that I am Catholic and that they love that about me. I have literally been accepted into their family and loved just the same. This whole idea has changed my life in so many ways, but especially because they have put into practice loving their neighbors as themselves and loving those who are different. I tell them we are like a family, each loved for our differences. It's like growing up in my family: my sisters and I are very different, yet I love them each for the different gifts they offer. My Methodist family has reminded me by their example to continuously love those around me who have even greater differences. 

     Like I said, my Methodist family is always reminding me of my Catholic faith, for example, Miss Char's exclamation of : "don't blame her, she's a Catholic." This week of VBS has been so beautiful for me especially in proclaiming my faith. Before, my Catholic faith was something I avoided talking about with them, if only to avoid awkward conversation. However, they have lead me on to holiness in a way that I openly proclaim my faith to them. This week, as many of you may know, we celebrated a Holy Day of Obligation in our Catholic Faith: the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary. On Wednesday night of Bible School, I went around reminding each of my little ones from our Parish, that they had to get to Mass the next day. I could see some of my dear friends looking on intriguingly. I didn't think anything of it. 

     Our Mary day came and went, and by Friday of Bible School, my heart was heavy. Like I said, I only get to really see my Methodist family once a year during VBS. I got there a little earlier to help my partners in crime, Miss Christine and Miss Kelsey, set up our "classroom" for our final night. Before I knew it, there was a crowd of people just mingling in our "classroom" before going up to the sanctuary. I guess I mentioned that I got up early and went to Mass and conversation sparked from there. We talked about how I go to Mass every day, how it's not an obligation, but rather only on Sunday and Holy Days, like Thursday. That's when Miss Char starts stumbling over a question she wanted to ask me. At first, I thought I knew what she wanted to ask me, but then she was having trouble formulating the words. Everyone was giving her a look that was between confusion and laughter. Finally she goes: have you ever, ya know, thought about becoming a nun? I smiled and nodded, knowing that was what she had been trying to say the whole time. I never really expected what happened next. Miss Char's eyes, after hearing me say that I have been thinking about entering religious life ever since I was little, started filling up with tears. I almost started crying. We quickly hurried up the stairs to get our students and start our final lesson. But at the end of the night, when I was saying my goodbyes to my dearheart Miss Carol, and Miss Char, I was told: I would literally love to have you as my daughter or granddaughter. You're going places, kid. I know it. 

      Over the week, the respect I gained for not only my eventual profession as a teacher but also my vocation grew immensely. Even though I am studying to be a high school teacher, teaching my little ones is always a blessing. I love doing teachery things and VBS is definitely one of them. But of course, vocation, as a discerner to religious life, stems from that as well. I always expect people to ask questions, even my Catholic Parish family, and so often people fulfill my expectations. I was never expecting to topic of discerning to even make a debut at VBS with my Methodist family, but Miss Char cut straight to the chase. I expected questions to follow, and eventually they did, but I never expected the tears. Miss Char, without knowing it, reminded me of the reason why I ever started discerning in the first place: the very beauty of it all. 

     I can honestly say that over the past seven years of open discernment to the religious life, there have been times when I feel as if I have fallen into a routine of discernment. There are many times where, although I know I am no where near being an official sister, I feel as if I am because I have been a part of the life for so long. There are times when I forget why I fell in love with Jesus so much in the first place. I can't tell you how many times in the past seven years that I have shed tears because I have truly known the love from Jesus and His continuous call for me. And yet, there are times when I forget this. Perhaps I hadn't forgotten it this time, but I know I wasn't thinking about it. Yet, Miss Char reminded me so beautifully that truly this is the vocation I feel so called to in this life. Yes, last night, as I prayed to thank God for such a beautiful week with such beautiful people, I cried because of His ultimate goodness. Oh He is just so good to me. 

    This week during Vacation Bible School we taught our students all about neighbors, both here in the USA and all over the world. We learned what makes up a good neighbor: friendliness, a giving, welcoming and forgiving attitude and boldness. We learned that no matter what our differences, we must always love and care for one another because we are all brothers and sisters with God as our father. And as for me, while it wasn't in the written curriculum, I learned not only the obvious (my neighbors are Methodist) but that as neighbors we must always uplift and support one another in everything we do; we must continuously pray for the to persevere in each one's vocation. Yep, I learned a little bit, too. 

     And so, I've got two questions for my Methodist family: Will you come to my final vow ceremony? And can I come back to help at VBS as a Sister?! 

(The Song for this Post can be found by using the following link: http://vimeo.com/60015661)

It is my favorite VBS song from this year :)

    

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!