As kids, tomorrow was a serious moment on the calendar, Ash Wednesday. Today was the last day before we had to give something up, Shrove Tuesday though I'm not sure any of us understood what the word meant or even the origins of the term.
As an adult, I lived for many years in Germany where Rosen Montag and Fastnacht Dienstag are part of the last gasp of Fasching or (as it's called in New Orleans) Mardi Gras or what our Brazilian friends know as Carneval.
There's an 'eat, drink and be merry for tomorrow it's all over' mentality that I find so funky Western Civilization. It's been decades since I gave something up for Lent (truth to tell, I failed my faith and gave up Lent but then kept on living) and I've rationalized my failure by pointing out to myself that since I always went back to whatever I gave up, I hadn't really changed at all, so surrender cost nothing because it was worth nothing.
And then I look around me, and see where we are and where I am in the midst of all of that and realize I didn't run backward or stop running at all in order to be here (nor did any of us) but rather, just ran a step slower, a step less resolute, perhaps a shorter footfall until the distance grew inexorably between where we wanted to be (and knew we had to go) and where we were to end up, so far behind we could no longer see those up ahead.
And when the distance between us was too great to ever fill, we stopped and have forgotten how to start again. This makes tomorrow, Ash Wednesday, more important as a beginning than today can ever be as an end because I think I saw you try.
-bill kenny
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