Mow Lines and My Mythical Priest

I noticed a yard yesterday. The house had continuous mow lines with the Catholic Church next door. I imagine it's the parsonage. I imagined the life of the priest who likely lives in that house.

Growing up there was a Catholic Church behind our church. I never met the priest. But I heard of his reputation. He was well-educated and well-read. I believe he knew 7 languages. His learning was like a myth to me. And a goal.

When I was younger, I never planned on marrying. Part of it was that I knew as strange as I am, I was unlikely to find a woman to put up with me. But a large part was what I wanted to accomplish. I didn't want to be a priest, but I wanted to be well-educated, well-read, and accomplished. I planned on being single because I imagined how productive my life could be. I could be like that mythical priest.

When I noticed the house yesterday and imagined the life of a priest living in it, I compared it to my life with my family. Our little Ivy Jo More Radosevich will be born any day. We have a full house with our soon-to-be 6th child, and the dishes and chores to go with it. When I checked the basement before bed last night, I found a Lego on the floor by the steps. And I thought of all that I would have missed if I'd stayed single to accomplish more.

I get to lay on the floor with my older boys and goof off while delaying bed time. But it means I stay up late to do the family budget. I will probably not learn 7 languages, but I get to learn to ask for snacks in Italian with these kids. I get to read the abridged Call of the Wild to them, even if that means I read fewer books of my own. I get to hear my daughters learn to play piano even if I'm never as good on guitar as I could have been.

And I wouldn't trade with that mythical priest.




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