Communion Day and the Bitter-Sweet Feelings of Big Occasions

Two weeks ago, my youngest son had his First Communion. It was such a beautiful day. All the 8-year-olds dressed impeccably, their faces lit up with big smiles; it was indeed their special day.

The teachers had arranged the church seating alphabetically, so Mr. Angel and I ended up in the front row. This sitting position gave us a perfect view of the altar and ceremony. I enjoyed every moment of the event—children walking proudly to the altar, reading, singing, and taking their first communion. At the end, they sang together as a choir, and all the parents got to take pictures of the whole class.

My youngest was chatting excitedly with all his friends, and we took many group photos with his best pals. 

It was a sweet moment but also a little bitter one—You might wonder why.

It was a reminder of what my eldest son, who is autistic, didn't experience.

Let me tell you, though, that Sebastian is a happy and content teenager. He has a small circle of friends, and as my husband often says, "Sometimes in life, you only need one good friend. Not everyone needs or wants a big social life".

But seeing my youngest surrounded by friends and part of a big class reminded me of Sebastian's different journey. With Sebastian, there were no big events, group photos, or big hugs with best pals.

Watching my little one with all his friends highlighted how different things are for my other son. These moments are always a mix of sweet and bitter, opposite emotions experienced at the same time—

Gratefulness and grief.

Joy and sadness.

Hope and fear.

Contentment and loss.

Yet, there was Sebastian, excited for his little brother, singing, saying prayers, and fully present. He was just as thrilled about the day as the rest of us. Sebastian loves a good party and was looking forward to the family lunch, the cake, and his brother opening presents.

Sebastian didn't share the grief I felt, and that's important for me to remember.

If you're a parent of a child with additional needs making their First Communion this year, I'm thinking of you. I understand the range of emotions these big days bring. Let yourself feel everything—joy and maybe some loss, too.

Lean on your loved ones: your family, best friends, and other families on the same journey. Try not to let the grief take over.

Focus on your child, and what makes them smile so they have a wonderful day—even if it doesn't look like what we imagine it should. Think about what makes your child happy and give them that; it's their special day.

Cherish the good things, no matter how small they may seem to others because those little moments are everything. They bring hope and happiness to your family.