That's more hardcore than Tim's dad. Wow.
I think she's getting more so as she gets older, and I wonder if her dementia is reinforcing it somehow? My dad was always the strict one about church things growing up and now he's like, "I can't convince her to go to communion."
Then again she's got nothing on her mother who made us say the rosary EVERY DAY when we were visiting, and we used to visit for a few weeks.
She hasn't taken Communion in a couple of years because she missed mass one week.
I'm not Catholic, but isn't that what confession is for?
Yeah, I don't know about why she doesn't go to confession. Her church also usually does General Absolution, where you go to mass and get absolved of your sins without actually having to go to confession.
She has always disliked confession since one of our priests told her that he could see who people were through the screen.
Also, my mom 100% not on the logic train anymore, so she may have her own crazy reasons for not going to confession.
That's pretty much exactly what confession is for, and most priests would just roll their eyes and say, "Your penance is to try to be here next week, and to not beat yourself up so hard the next time you miss a week, which you will."
By her standards I am about the worst Catholic in all Catholonia.
eta: It sounds like there's more going on, and I am sorry that she's being so rigid. Vibing hard that something slips through and she finds the grace to be gentle to herself.
Yeah, because my first reaction was that's what Reconciliation is for too...my super Catholic dad has gotten a bit less strict as he got older, and OCCASIONALLY skips Sunday mass. Gasp!
My dad has frequently missed mass because of his health, so he's a lot more forgiving.
And, home. The cat was chill, the oil leak is still minimal, the house smells funky, my boxed set of Cadfaels are here. My mind has now transitioned from vacation/no responsibilities to on to the next thing/so much cleaning tomorrow. Oh, and I'd best check in with my sister in law to see if we've still on for dinner tomorrow night.
Sometimes I wonder if it would be better to stay home and not upset myself, but I so need to get out of this homogenous world of Utah on a regular basis. I need to see the other color of people and hear the different languages (Spanish practically doesn't count any more), and see the startling things people wear on vacation. I may be becoming a prude, because some of the girls would walk by and my only thought would be "Oh, my dear, no." And women my age would have me think "Dear god, you know better than that, don't you?"
In the room next to me was a passel of twenty-something girls, squealing at each other. The first night I was there, they were coming down the hall, dressed for hunting, burbling at each other: "Are we in Vegas! Yes! We are in Las Vegas!" I wanted to pat them on the head, give them a stern lecture, and make sure they all had condoms.
Next trip, though, is to visit Elena in Canada. Time to get a passport. And to get a new apartment first.
The windy city was windy today. [link]
It did take some effort to avoid being blown off the train platform this morning.
I have nothing to add to the Lent conversation.