I’ve decided to write a personal post. About Ash Wednesday. I’m sitting at my dining room table, looking longly across the room at the cosy couch that I’ve given up for Lent and that’s all I can think about.
By the way, this picture is entirely staged. I had to clear the table off before I took this snapshot. Our table is the “drop zone” for everything that enters our house, it seems.
But the days leading up to Ash Wednesday, I tried to figure out what I would give up this year. And after my third straight hour of The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills (my guiltiest, guilty pleasure) it dawned on me. The TV and even more, my couch.
So I decided on Wednesday morning, on my way to school, that this is what I would give up. And in its place I would add more prayer, and use my time more wisely so that I’m not President of the Procrastination Nation.
So all day I fasted, like I should. And after getting up at 5 am that morning to do Zumba in my living room, and working like a madwoman all day, I thought I would pass out during mass, as I shut my eyes during prayer. But I survived and received the blessing and reminder of our mortality in the ashes.
But after Mass, Hubbs and I went to dinner and we started talking about what we would give up for Lent. And I joked that since my stomach really hurt after fasting all day, that I would give up fasting. He looked surprised. And then started to list all of the food he had eaten that day and said, “It would have been nice to have a little reminder that I should’ve fasted.” To which I replied, “To each his own.” And this seemed to make sense. Not all Catholics fast.
But then I started thinking. And I realized (after the gears in my head started to grease up with the wrap I was eating for dinner) that it really is my responsibility to remind him of these things. Being still new to the Catholic church, it’s a lot to keep straight.
And I remembered the analogy our priest made at our wedding to a marriage being like climbing up a steep hill; in life, we will sometimes walk beside, drag behind, or push ahead our significant other. And in this case, I probably should have reminded Hubbs to fast.