Creosote

2. Anointed

On the morning of my confirmation, our house was a frantic place. It wasn’t just my confirmation day. May 9th, 1971 was also Mother’s Day and a special graduation Mass for the grade twelves, which included our sister Betty. Dad was up before everyone and was out milking the cow and making sure the livestock and poultry were fed while we were having breakfast, shining shoes, and getting dressed. We took time at breakfast to present cards and gifts to mother. Betty had to be fitted into her graduation dress and her hair curled and put up. I too had to be properly dressed, which meant a real tie done with a Windsor knot, not my old clip-on. I struggled with the Windsor knot, but after a few tries got it right. My older brother Bob had taught me the Windsor and used to help me with it, but I could do it myself now. I combed my hair with some Brylecream to keep it in place and Mary Ellen cleaned her black and white Buster Brown saddle shoes.

Dad still was not back from the barn with the milk and time was running out for him to wash and dress. Mother was annoyed and speculated that the milk cow got through the fence again into the Bartusak property. Dad would’ve gone after the cow and then he would have to repair the fence. Mother decided we had to go. I was disappointed, hugely disappointed, because Dad was to be my sponsor, and now he would miss it or be late. The graduating class and the confirmation kids with their sponsoring parent had to be there and seated before Mass began. Mother declared that she would be my sponsor and that Dad would get himself ready when he could and follow in the half ton.

Dad would be late at best and now Mother would stand in as my sponsor and that’s not what I wanted. I was worried about Dad because I knew he would be there if he could. This was important to him. And I was anxious because I didn’t know what this confirmation would do to or demand of me. I had the idea that it meant I had to be an adult now, but I was not. Not really. I was just a kid and wanted to stay that way, at least some of the time. I did want to be an adult – to drive, to help out more on the farm, to have more freedom. But not all the time. What could being an adult mean when I just turned thirteen?

There wasn’t much talk on the trip to town. Mother pulled out her rosary, said that this was a day of celebration and launched into the glorious mysteries. We recited prayers that we all knew by heart, which was good. It crowded out and relegated my anxiety to the background. As our car rolled into town, we were reciting the closing litany.

I recall little of the mass. Something was said about mothers, about the graduation class, and our confirmation class too, but I remember none of it. I do recall in sharp relief the moment I was confirmed. I can’t be sure if the words I remember are exact, but if I close my eyes and look back, this is what I heard the bishop say. “Do you, Michael Joseph Aylward, accept to be anointed by this oil, to uphold and bear the duties of your faith?” “I do,” was my reply. Then the bishop dipped his thumb into a small brass bowl of oil and marked a cross upon my forehead. He then smudged some ashes on the oil. “Through the powers vested in me by our holy church, I anoint you, Michael Joseph Aylward. I add to this name John, the name you chose as your confirmation name. By this sacrament, God the Father and his beloved Son bestow unto you the presence of the Holy Spirit, to accompany and be with you through every trial and tribulation that may challenge your faith. This sacrament bestows upon you the presence of the Holy Spirit, to live within you, to accompany you, and to afford you strength in times of weakness, comfort in times of sorrow, and joy to reward your fidelity to our Lord, God the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.” I was confirmed.

As Mother and I returned to our pew following the confirmation, I scanned the church for Dad. He was not there.