Blessed Among All Women

My classroom was the first next the nun’s lounge. It was a typical room where academics are learned the hard way. Students in dark blue uniforms sat at single desks with nothing in their field of vision other than an oversized crucifix, a black board, and a nun teacher. The only sound admitted there was complete silence. The teacher’s lecturing voice, the white clay whining against the board and the students’ pens rubbing against the paper were the only tolerated exceptions to the strict rule. A rule is only a rule if a punishment is duly enforced against those who chose to be flippant. On the wall across the crucifix, an instrument the size and shape of a cane but with a different purpose was hanging to remind and redirect the deviant ones. The only unauthorized noise I ever remember were loud female laughs coming from the nuns’ lounge. I always wondered what in that whole place could possibly trigger any form of hilarity.     

     I graduated from Mount Carmel without ever finding out what, or who the jokes were on. I went on to college, and never really gave much thought to my time spent there after that. I didn’t keep in touch with any one, either. Lives get shuffled, and childhood friendships fade as adult personalities flourish. People usually love to recall the memories they cherish, and clearly there was nothing endearing for me to remember. Those years were fossilized in my past, and had no business doing in the present. Or so I thought.   

One morning, in line to order at my local coffee shop, I though the wait would be smoother if I would grab one newspaper from the fixture. I skimmed through the headlines to see if something less ordinary would catch my fancy. Wars, scandals, politics, only old news on that day. I was about to give up and put the smelly paper back when right at the bottom of the page a quirky article screamed for my attention: “First Lesbian Wedding Celebrated in Town.”. I thought to myself “This place is finally learning”. I quickly turned the pages to get to the full article. Once I reached page 10, I eyed a picture showing two brides holding hands, smiling from ear to ear while posing for the photograph. I wouldn’t have thought more of it had the two wives not been sisters O’Riordan and Katolicsky, former Mount Carmel math and English teachers, respectively.

Barely able to keep my jaw from dropping, I approached the counter to pay for the paper, and left the coffee for another time. The news had gotten me more awake than 20 expressos in a row. I kept reading without wasting a second. The article was recounting how the “two newlyweds had met while working as teachers at the same school. They had been secret lovers for 20 years before deciding to quit religion, and benefit from the new legislation on same-sex marriage”. I finally knew the reason for so much laughter and happiness back in that nun’s lounge room. I was also happy I now had a new old sweet memory.