Younger Daughter figures something out

There was a girl whom we'll call Amelia (since that is not her real name) who was raised in our parish. She was one of about a dozen or so kids and, if she wasn't the youngest, she was close.

Amelia would be a couple of years or so older than Older Daughter, but the two of them became friendly when both of them were hired to work in the parish rectory several years ago.

Time passed. Amelia went away to school but, in this modern age, no one is ever really far from home, not as long as there's Facebook and all the other social media to tie the kids together. Older Daughter and Amelia stayed friendly, even as Amelia graduated from college and got a teaching job. Older Daughter knew all about Amelia's long-time boyfriend who, in the fullness of time, became her betrothed. A wedding date was set.

When Amelia's wedding date was set there was no particular urgency about the scheduling. But things happen.

In short, the proverbial cart got put in front of the proverbial horse, if you know what I mean. And by the time the big day arrived, Amelia was about seven months' big. And she was bitter.

Not about her husband-to-be, you understand, and not about her unborn child -- but about the nasty, wagging forked tongues of the people who were supposed to be her friends and neighbors and fellow parishioners. The surreptitious sidelong glances really began to wear on her. Eventually she heard whispers in the silence and felt eyes looking at her when there was no one there.

I know Older Daughter was upset that Amelia cut her off, too. Older Daughter couldn't figure out why. (They've only recently begun to communicate again, from what I've heard.)

Younger Daughter was still in junior high when Amelia had her problems. She was an altar server back then and she wound up serving Amelia's wedding. She knew even then how angry Amelia was, but she also did not understand why.

But that was then.

Now Younger Daughter finds herself in a similar situation, and she brought Amelia up in conversation over the weekend.

"I hate everyone at this point," she told me.

"Thanks a lot," I said.

"You know what I mean, Dad. I get so tired of people looking at me -- guessing -- speculating -- saying I'm only marrying Olaf because I'm pregnant. And most of them don't know; they're guessing because we're doing this quickly. I don't want to see anyone. I don't even want to go to the wedding."

"You don't want to get married?"

"No, I do. I just don't want anyone to be there at this point. I think this must be exactly what Amelia felt all those years ago."

I'm pretty sure Younger Daughter's right on the money, too.

And we're the Catholics -- allegedly the pro-life people.