Who invented buttons anyway?

I rolled into church today, wheeled next to the row where I like to sit and realized that I have developed a habit of putting my elbow up on the back of the chair next to me.

That's where my nephew sits when he goes to Mass with me.

We don't go together every week because, quite frankly, we both have fatigue issues and it doesn't work out that way. But when we do go to Mass, it's very special for both of us. He turns the pages on the hymnal so I can actually get the words right (although I think I do fairly well guessing MOST of the time ).

Sometimes he asks me for help with something due to his CP and I say that I can't do it either so we go looking for someone who has good hands and/or legs . For example, trying to put money into the collection basket became a circus one week . After we both attempted to get money out of my wallet and couldn't, we asked a kind looking woman sitting near us in church to help us out but by then the basket was long gone. The woman started yelling to the usher "Bring that back here- do you know how hard they tried?"

And we looked at each other and laughed. We must have been quite a sight as we both unsuccessfully attempted to get at that money. We don't find it tragic or horrible. It's just the way it is.

We've replayed that kind of scene over and over - when neither of us can get food containers open or buttons or silly objects made for people who have dexterity. Our attitude is to find a way around it, get resourceful and if all else fails - ask for help. Sometimes, however, by the time we've both tried to do things we're laughing so hard at ourselves that it just doesn't matter.

He'll say "I didn't really want that catsup " if we can't get it open or I'll say "Who invented buttons anyway?" and both of us crack up. There's something very healing in our laughter as we share our frustration. It's because we aren't dealing with that frustration alone.

So, my dear nephew, when I sit in Mass without you, you are indeed with me, in my heart.