Uprooted already?

I've really been enjoying going to Mass on Saturdays. I attend at the parish I was catechized in, and while the parishioners are strangers to me, the Church and the clergy are both familiar. Even though I'm doing this by myself, being in a generally familiar place is almost comforting. People have started recognizing me, and have been great about making me feel welcome (though I've got to admit, being hugged during my first sign of peace was disturbing. I've since realized that's just her way. She laughed when I was the one to offer her a hug this weekend).

My Mom, who is lapsed like I was, stayed for Mass this weekend. I wasn't able to get to Confession and had to abstain from Communion. It was...interesting answering the questions and comments that followed when I didn't get up to receive. Mass was fifteen minutes longer than usual. On the way home, my mother noted this, along with several other things she liked and didn't like. Then:

"Hey, I know! Why don't we go to the Church I went to when I was a kid? I'd love to go back."

Wait. What? A different parish? Now? Why now? A different parish means different people and different clergy, not to mention that I actually know people there. That, admittedly, was a reason I chose my home Church to return to--no one knew me. I could worship in peace, without questions.

It's hard to consider not going there. Still, I have to consider the long-term effects of a switch--if we go to my mom's old Church, she may enjoy Mass more, which would be wonderful. I would eventually settle in wherever we ended up, even if it would be uncomfortable for a (hopefully short) time. Her Church is closer to home, too. Maybe we'll go the weekend after next to test the waters. Who knows, we may alternate, or we may not switch parishes at all.

So much for settling in. His will be done...