As the boxes pile up, the house is emptying slowly, like blood leaving a body, or like water leaving the beach at low tide and memories surface like sea shells…
I should write an orderly history but souvenirs do not come to me in chronological order…
I remember being carried over the threshold as a bride in August 1976, I remember bringing each of my children home from the hospital, I remember watching the ambulance take my husband away. Those were the unforgettable dates…but life is made of small events, like first days of school and graduations, birthday parties and Halloweens, Christmasses and snowmen on the lawn, new friends and pets…They weave the fabric of our memories.
The other day I was reminded of one very special event that happened in this house. The date was August 7 1983. It was, my third child’s christening. I remember I had invited my neighbours as well as the family, because by then, I felt they were part of our lives as much as relatives. It was extremely hot (100° F) that day…I had a large party to prepare, 3 kids to dress, myself to get prettied up…and my husband and I could still not agree on a name…I was a bit stressed…
We got to the church along with all our guests (including my 90 year old grandmother). The doors were locked, so everyone was standing on the church steps in the heat…We got the guardian to open the doors, and stepped into the welcoming coolness. The children, and there were many, started playing hide and seek in the confessionals and tag between the pews, as I was trying to keep my sweat from staining the antique christening gown the baby was wearing and getting more harried by the minute.
The priest was nowhere to be found. We rang the rectory, they told us he had left for the day. It seems he had totally forgotten about our ceremony. This was the first sign of what tuned out to be Alzeimer’s…
So we told everyone to come on over to our house while we figured out a solution. In the car, on the way there, I made a deal with my husband: If he could find a priest he could name the baby as he pleased.
He found one…and even managed to get permission to perform the christening at our place rather than going back to the church. And that is how our baby daughter was christened in our backyard surrounded by friends and family on a beautiful summer afternoon.
But the story does not end there, and I might have forgotten the rest had we not caught it on video…
The name war had not only been between my husband and myself…the other children had their opinions too. And when the priest said her name as he poured the Holy Water, our first born (who preferred my choice of name) exclaimed very loudly: “I HATE that name!!” and he ran off… He did not call his sister by her name for several years…
Ehehehe. You should have told me that my choices had made it as her second and third first names 🙂