Author: Kevin Wondrash

I went on a guilt trip the other day. The store was only 20 miles away, and my partner in crime was a daughter-in-law with a flair for decorating.

I had been grumbling about my lower back pain whenever I sat for awhile in Bob’s chair or Bob’s sofa in my living room. (And these days sitting is my favorite activity.) Even though Bob had never lived in our condo, the furniture had been selected with his weekend visits in mind.

It’s been more than a year since he was in our house and six months since he moved into his heavenly splendor. I thought it was time to take care of my back.

If you have ever experienced your children at play and shuddered when their speech sounds like a close imitation of your own, you will understand my story. (e.g. “Don’t make me tell you again!”) All parents recognize this as a red flag, warning them that “little pitchers have big ears.”

But what happens when they grow up and write books based on the family, and you are forced to come face to face with the imperfect parent-in-training that you were?

If anyone were to evaluate our parish by the attendance at daily Mass, they might get the impression that ours was an “old timers’ religion.” It’s mostly a collection of gray heads with a few colors sprinkled in.

In my lifetime, I have witnessed that the biggest population change in our parish, however, is in committee members. This struck me most recently while attending our parish library committee meeting.

As we age, we try not to focus on all of the “unfinished” projects and all of the “unrealized” dreams we are leaving behind. When we have children, however, they just might finish some of those projects and achieve some of those dreams. If we are lucky, it may even happen in our lifetime.

My husband, Bob, dreamed of becoming a lawyer, but when the babies were in such a hurry to arrive, he had to give up that dream. Before he died, however, he had the thrill of seeing our grandson, Craig, graduate with honors from a top law school.