How did I even become Catholic?

Well it’s an interesting story.

Well that’s a lie.  I’m not entirely sure that anyone other than myself will find this interesting, but it’s definitely a little weird to me.

My brother and I are the only Catholics in the family.  Well except for my niece and nephew who my brother is raising Catholic, but I think that can be inferred.

Do you want to know the reason?

Here goes.

My mom, grandmother and aunt were Catholic for about 5 minutes.

In the 70s when my brother was a child (we are 13 years apart) my mother decided that she was a fan of Catholic education.  These days the archdiocese is far more tolerant of non-catholic children attending catholic school, but not then.  At that time if you wanted to send your child to catholic school, they wanted you to be catholic, too.  So everyone converted.

By the time I was born my brother was nearly done with grammar school, and the family was kinda over being catholic.  I was christened at the parish of my brother’s school, but I didn’t really go to Catholic church as a child.  I remember my great aunt Anika lived a few doors down from a Presbyterian church, and she and my grandmother were very active in it when I was little.  That is the first church I remember attending regularly.  Even after I started Catholic school in the first grade (the same one my brother went to) we still attended the Presbyterian church most Sundays.

I don’t remember what happened, but suddenly it just stopped.  All of a sudden the only church I went to was the catholic church associated with my school.  I think I was maybe 7 or 8.  We only went once a month.  The second Sunday of every month was set aside as the school mass.  That was the Sunday that the school choir sang, and the selected grade (each grade was responsible for a mass 1st through 8th) would be responsible for the readings that day.  That was really the only Sunday any of my classmates attended mass, Catholic or not.  Nobody was devout.  We were all just there.

So no one else is Catholic.  My mother doesn’t really claim any denomination.  My Grandmother died a Presbyterian.  My aunt went to baptist church for a while, but I don’t think she really claims any denomination either.  The only thing we all have in common, religiously, is a belief in God.  Everything else is up in the air.