Maxine Nightingale "Right Back Where We Started From"

Our family sat in the same church pew each week from the early-1980s until my parents' divorce in 1992. We attended 4:45 P.M. mass each Saturday as a family and, if we were lucky, my dad treated us to pizza afterwards. We were your typical Midwest family with my dad working in a steel mill while my mom made minimum wage holding down various clerical positions. My parents tried. They did. They married after only dating for a short time because they "had to". Their marriage survived until year 10 when "irreconcilable differences" drove them apart. Then, one night dad returned with all his belongings and moved back into a house that was no longer our home -- that home was sold months earlier with their divorce imminent. Seeking a return to normalcy, they built a new home in our old subdivision. We all moved in together and six years later, my parents gave up again. This time, my dad didn't return with his belongings. My parents officially divorced in 1992 on the first day of my sophomore year of high school.

On Christmas Eve 2018, my two aunts, mother, brother, his two children and his fiance attended mass at our old church in Indiana. We even sat in our old pew. Since we expected seating to be limited, we arrived nearly 30 minutes early. This allowed ample time for thinking. Too much thinking. As I sat there, 26 years later, emotions washed over me that I never expected. Not much had changed at this church during my absence -- it looked just like I remember it...maybe a little smaller, but still the same. This same church was where I last saw my Grandfather alive...four days before he died of a heart attack in 1989. This same church was where my Grandmother stood as my Confirmation sponsor in 1991. Earlier that Christmas Eve afternoon, we all watched old family movies including a VHS recording of my Grandmother speaking at her surprise 70th birthday in 1998. My memories of the night are cloudy for personal reasons, so I was touched hearing Grandma speak so eloquently on that tape about how the reason we all celebrated that night was because of love. "Love was what kept us all together especially after John (my Grandfather) died, " she said. Grandma died in 2004 after a long and painful battle with cancer. Already working overtime, my limbic system struggled to maintain balance. And that's when it happened.

Unexpected, my dad walked to the front pew of church where we all once sat as a family and joined us. He sat down next to his grandchildren. The rest of the pew took notice and waved excitedly. Even my mom's two sisters who always loved my dad. For a moment, I was a kid again...on Christmas Eve. In fact, I believe the red coat my dad was wearing was the same coat he wore back when my parents were married. I felt tears welling up in my left eye. I didn't know why, exactly, because I came to terms with my parents divorce long before it actually happened. Was I morning or reminiscing? I didn't know. Thoughts that zig-zagged through my brain now did loopty-loops. All of a sudden, my family was...a family again. Within ten minutes, my dad stood up just before church serviced started and walked over. He whispered to us that he was leaving. He said he had another mass to attend later that night. Looking back 48 hours later, it was probably the right decision.