I Don’t Get It

This may have been my last Easter Vigil.  And it has nothing to do with faith but everything to do with anxiety and the ill manners of others.

Saturday started out okay if a little early due to only getting three hours of sleep.  I did get a nap which helped.  I got ready for Mass early and then I started getting that nervous feeling in the pit of my stomach. 

Now I also have to add I have a phone interview Wed and while I’m worried about it, I know it’s something I can handle.  I’ve done a phone interview before.

So I’m feeling nervous, enough that I’m seriously considering not going to Easter Vigil.  I decide to still go and decide to work out my anxiety by writing it out in my paper journal.  You know, figure out what’s really causing me to be nervous.  I write for a bit and I keep telling myself that I’m okay.

Then it’s time for me to leave.  I’ve just locked my front door when.I turn around to head down the stairs when the new neighbor starts talking to me.  Asks me if I’m his neighbor (thought that was obvious with me coming out the door next to yours) then asks me about my car (now I’m concerned that he’s damaged it in someway which will piss me off) only to tell me that my passenger side tires are low. Which would not have been a problem but it was the time and the way he said it as if he had to lower himself to tell me something so blatantly obvious that a dead dog could understand it.  And he keeps it up until I’m nearly in my car, after I told him I know and I can’t afford to fix things right now. 

So now I’m upset and pissed off and have to spend several minutes talking myself down and telling myself to just ignore the jerk.  (Side note: These neighbors are no better than last ones that had been in that apartment. These just don’t have the high level of traffic coming through.  The screaming and door slamming are the same.)

I get to church and while some people are outside many more are already inside.  Lots of kids running around with parents not supervising.  So I decide not to stand outside near the fire and to be inside.  But even though I’m early, I’m stuck in the back.  I finally manage to get a candle.  And I’m glad Wannabe Fundycath isn’t there.  I didn’t not want to deal with her.

Mass starts.  People are still coming in late.  I won’t even get into the lectors (the English ones; the Spanish ones were okay).  We get to Father’s homily.  Mass started at 8:30 and now it’s nearly 9:30.  People are still walking in.  A family sits down behind me and the parents start talking and laughing loudly.  I do my best to ignore it.  On top of that are the kids of the family at the other end of the pew I’m sitting in keeping leaving out my end of the pew.  Two girls and a boy, in and out, in and out.  Then a father and daughter show up and sit in the middle of the pew between me and that family of hyper kids.  The father just sits there while the girl is all over the place.  There is also the boy in shorts and a big puffy jacket that keeps walking up and down the aisle.

Then we get to the baptisms.  The adults behind me are laughing it up.  The kids in my pew are in and out.  I’ve got an upset stomach that I’m hoping won’t get worse.  The sound system keeps screeching feedback.  That kid keeps walking up and down the aisle.  The kids in the narthex keep screaming and laughing.  People are still coming in.  Baptism number four hundred is going on. (Actually,  I think there were only about twenty baptisms but those to be baptized were so slow to walk forward.  Baptisms took an hour alone. Then there were five-seven others being received onto the Church.)

I’m ready to bolt and just go home.  I actually got so fed up with the people laughing behind me that I turned around and asked her to be quiet because it was Mass.  I felt bad because I normally just ignore things but it was just such bad manners.  The laughing stopped or at least got quiet but they still kept talking though not as loudly.

I don’t get why people come to Mass severely late. Or show up only to talk and laugh like they were at home.  Or show up to Mass only once a year.  Or wait so long for their kids to get baptized (when the youngest is in second grade) and the family won’t likely darken the doorstep of a Catholic parish until they want to get married.  Or late their kids run wild. 

Easter Vigil ended up three hours.  Normally that’s not a problem.  This one was so bad I felt like I wasn’t at Mass at all.  I like Easter Vigil if it’s done right.  But this one was just too much.  Too many people, no manners, too much nice, no reverence.  Next year I think I’ll just go to Easter Sunday.  Wait a few years before trying Easter Vigil again.

And this is all still bothering me even though it’s nearly 2 am Monday morning.



Type this later, if I remember.

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