Time is Flying

Time is certainly flying:  within the last two weeks we have celebrated our parish's 100th anniversary (while dressed in Polish glory - see above); celebrated Sarah's second birthday; quasi-celebrated our 12th anniversary of marriage; attended my sister-in-law's twin baby shower; welcomed my father, mother sister and long-lost South African aunt; watched the twins at a track and field meet; and said goodbye to the visiting relatives.  In typical Afelskie fashion, all the festivities were accompanied by a respiratory virus mixed in with a low-grade, but strange, stomach ailment.  Too much excitement.

Sarah turned two on June 6th and we feted her with bite-size cupcakes from the grocery store.  These are wildly popular, and far easier than me trying to bake, and anybody trying to enjoy the product.  In some areas, I set my standards quite low.  (Yes, Colin, the requisite stack of banana bunches at the Afelskie house!)

Two, and she refuses to look at the camera.

I can't tell you how much I love this little girl.  She is fabulous in 1001 ways.  She has brought countless joys to our family and often proves to be the sun to her orbiting brothers and sister.  I am so happy that we had to courage to say yes to her life.

And she loves food just like her mother does.

Perhaps the greatest celebration this June has been the welcoming of my Aunt Elena from South Africa.  She, my father and my Uncle Simon grew up together in Liverpool, England.  As soon as adulthood approached, they were thrown far and wide as children of the British Empire.  Uncle Simon stayed in England, my father moved to Canada (via Antartica) where he married his cousin's best friend, and my Aunt Elena was drawn away to South Africa by my Uncle Bruce whom her brother Simon had brought home from the ships.  Thus, I first met my Uncle Simon at the age of 16 when he walked off the plane in Halifax and picked up my sister in one arm and me in the other.  I had to wait another 20 years to meet my dear aunt.  It was well worth the wait.

Not only did I realize that, oh my goodness, Joe's eyes come from the Culshaw side, but I was able to see my dad with his sister for the first time in my life.  There is something very healing about witnessing one's parents in the presence of those with whom they grew up.  The last time that my dad and his sister lived together was 50 years ago, at the ages of 17 and 20.  During that half century, they saw each other twice.  Please, stop and think about that.  That would be as if Hannah left home at 20 and only saw Benjamin twice until she turned 70 and he 67.  That is a tremendous amount of time and life.  As my mother said as she sat and talked with Elena, "Why don't these people live closer?"  Or in the words of my Uncle Simon, "It's one of the saddest aspects of the modern world."  Family is meant to stay close; at least we will have heaven to make up for lost time.

Yet another event in a very busy summer

 Yes, I know, I am not Polish; but in the words of our parish secretary, "You are, however, Mrs. Afelskie!"  Polack by marriage - but not to our wonderful bishop who, pictured below, looks strangely patriarchal in an Eastern Rite sort of a way.
Sunday was the official opening of a year of celebrating our church's 100th anniversary.  Our bishop, Bishop Michael Mulhall, came to celebrate mass and attend the formal lunch following the mass.  The bells were rung 100 times, the Knights of Columbus were in full regalia ... and so were the Afelskies.  A good friend of mine, who also happens to be a neighbour, sits on the Anniversary Committee for the parish.  Our priest had asked her and her family to dress as the Kaszubian family for Sunday's celebrations.  A member of the local heritage society dropped off a mountain of costumes at her house a few days before.

 So many costumes that my friend happened to find exactly enough for our family to dress in traditional Polish and Kaszubian costume as well.  The previous Saturday, Jacob had already been enlisted to help people entering the church light 100 candles surrounding the baptismal font.  With enough costumes for the rest of the family, Father assigned the remaining Afelskies as greeters and bouquet hander-outers - that's an official title particular to the Kaszubian Catholic Church.  I felt a little silly at first, but was quickly amazed hy how many people were genuinely touched to see their native costumes on display at mass.  We were the subject of many photos and tears were shed by more than one native Polack.  (Before you ask:  yes, Hannah and I felt extremely pretty wearing costumes embroidered with sequins, ribbons and the most exquisitely detailed flowers.  The costumes themselves really were works of love and art.)

 Joseph and Isaac were also decked out in traditional fare; but in the interest of maintaining sanity at the nap-time meal, we opted to hire a babysitter to look after the three youngest at home.  Dave managed to escape the costumes by virtue of having outgrown a costume more suited to his teenage years.  He breathed a sigh of relief and wore an understated combination of yellow and black, the traditional Kaszubian colours.  Ben managed to sneak that reserved sign into most of the lunch photos and even presented himself to the bishop with the sign in hand.  For what Ben is reserved, I am still unsure.  You might recognize little Felicity (she of the amorous feelings for Jacob) as the one non-member of the Afelskie clan.  She is, nevertheless, a distant cousin despite the obvious difference in skin tone.  (Is it only me who sees the rosiness of the Afelskies?)  And, if you recall her from a February post when her little brother was born, she hopes one day to also be a daughter-in-law.  Time will tell.

Ben's First Communion

 Oh my, sorry so grainy.  We were in such a rush before the mass that I didn't even get a chance to snap a solo shot of Ben.  Thank God that Hannah thought of taking a few, despite the poor quality.

 This one really captures the spirit of Benjamin.  He appears quite reserved and mild mannered in public, but once you really get to know him - ta da!  (Refer to the above.)

 These are a little out of order:  the kiss of peace.

 Amazingly, the clearest shot is of the exact moment of reception of the Body and Blood of Christ.  The removal of the traditional altar rail combined with a church that largely receives the Eucharist while kneeling equals potential back problems for the priest.

 And he turns around and there's his mom waiting with camera in hand.

 Some of the 28 altar servers streaming down to receive Holy Communion.  Humanae Vitae lives on at St. Hedwig's.

 Ben receiving the Brown Scapular from Deacon Dr. Bob MacDonald.  We have three deacons and Deacon MacDonald is very well known in the larger Catholic community as a former physician, psychotherapist and dynamic pro-life and pro-family Catholic speaker.  We are blessed with his presence in our community.

 There they are:  the whole shebang.  The sisters on either side are members of the Sister of Our Lady Immaculate based in Cambridge, ON.  They have a small house here and attend the Academy throughout the year.  Fortunately for us, they act as the catechists for the First Communion class.  These are very well-catechized children.

 Benjamin flanked by an NHL draft pick and a class clown (whose bug bite bled profusely throughout mass; luckily I had a Kleenex).

More and more blessings for the wee folk.  It's hard to believe that half of our children are now communicants.  Where has time gone?  (For better photos see http://sainthedwigchurch.com.)