Confessions of a Free Range Prolapsed Catholic

It’s been a big day today! A sort of next generation rite of passage has transpired and as I sit here in my lounge room and time ticks on between 1.50pm and 2.00pm I feel a familiar ache. The same ache I felt when I left each one of my children with Mum to go to work, the same ache I felt when they started school, finished school, got their first job, fell in love for the first time, fell out of love, graduated from uni, got married, gave birth etc. In all these  “time stands still” moments when I have known that things will be so very different once the moment has been lived through I have felt what I call womb ache!

It starts where each one of them started, lingers in remnants of melancholy, joy, wonder and hope and then launches itself into the new time, the changed time and somehow assures me that all will be well.

Well, womb ache has stretched across another generation. First born grandchild is on a plane heading to London. When she returns, she will be 19. Her mother, sister and I will be a year older. She will have travelled through 19 different countries. At a time in the world when so much of it is not making sense at all, she and indeed thousands like her are continuing to live a life motivated by hope and quest for joy.

We talked about the hard stuff. The what if question, the are you afraid question and with a logic that comes form deep inside her unique self, she voiced what we have heard so much lately. You can’t let the bad things others do stop you from living.

written on June 17th, 2017