I went to Church yesterday to hear the last mass of the day at six o’clock at our local parish. I was listening intently to the sermon and during the offertory, for some reason, I looked down the seat in front of me. What else should I notice but tiny circles of dried up wax? Who knows how old those particular drops were or for what reason their candles were burned for but there they were: the keys to my memory lane. My parents are both Roman Catholics and they had me quite late in their lives. They were already…