|Me, no glasses.|
I still have the dress, but not the veil, which was my mother's communion veil, too. We sat in the front pew, which meant I could see what was going on. I was so nearsighted in those days that I had no idea you could actually see each individual leaf on a tree. But since I'd always seen the world in a blur, I never noticed, and it wasn't until third grade when I was moved to a seat several rows back in the classroom that I realized I couldn't read anything on the flip charts.
|My mother, wearing the same veil.|
I can still remember the aching desire to receive, and my relief that my parents and pastor took my request seriously.
Someone asked me this morning why I am marking 49, not 50? It's a perfect square of a sacred number: 7 x 7? Once a geek, always a geek.