Hanging on the wall in our home is a photograph of my husband on the day of his first communion, standing with his four grandparents. I never met his grandparents, so for me, this picture is who they were. I walk past this picture everyday; I know many of the details on it and every so often I will stop to really look at it and wonder what his grandparents were like – or to see if my children resemble any of them (since they so closely resemble my husband).

Tomorrow my oldest son makes his first communion. All four of his grandparents are here and I keep thinking about the photograph on our wall. I know tomorrow that we will take a similar picture: James with his four grandparents. And I wonder where that picture will end up: in his home, hanging on his wall, with his wife looking at it and wondering what this day was like for James?

I hope what she’ll see is what this weekend truly is for him: a celebration. A celebration of his faith, his family & friendships, and of his history¬†& future.