I called my parents from my boyfriend's house in New York, eager to spill the details of my first Christmas. I described how the Christmas tree's fragrant pine reminded me of family ski trips to Colorado and how Sunday morning Mass was, dare I say, fun. I raved about the presents I had received: the Broadway tickets, the new wallet, and the silver rings. I thought my parents would be impressed. But, when I started talking about the communion ceremony I witnessed, I suddenly heard the phone click. I stopped midsentence and paused. "Who hung up?" I asked. "That was your father," my mother answered in a soft, hesitant voice. "I think you made him uncomfortable."