When I was a young girl in Sunday School, I met quite a few religious zealots. Some were my teachers; some were respected members of the church. What they all had in common was their other-worldly aura. They seemed to have convinced themselves that the world they lived in could be disregarded in favor of the world where they would soon be living.
It was difficult for a young girl to understand their teachings when they described the heavenly home where we would all meet one day. Death meant nothing to me. Life after death was even stranger still. The names of various men from the Bible would be mentioned as people to emulate so that I too could see what they saw. It was all very mysterious. Soon I was learning about prophets who could see into the future, but it was emphasized that no one in my time could see into the future. What did it all mean? I never could figure it out, but I was given the definite impression that I should be able to. I felt that I just wasn't trying hard enough; I just wasn't praying with enough fervor to reach God and enlightenment.
I'm sure many children and even adults felt as I did. We were the failures who sat silently through Sunday School and church services and never volunteered to pray out loud. Or, when we did speak, it was to ask a question that made the church leaders look askance at us so that we knew we had failed again to understand. I remember asking to join a church when I was an adult, and even though I was a member of my childhood church, and had fulfilled all the requirements needed by that church body, this new church group questioned my faith and my worthiness to be a member of their congregation. These were both Christian churches and supposedly followed the same precepts but the second group was apparently closer to God. They did eventually approve my membership but I never really felt that I had made the grade. I felt that I was not connected to God in the way they were, and I never would be.
After a few years I left that church, and never attended another church. I was determined to find a church that was true to the teachings of Jesus, because I was still under the impression that I really believed in those teachings. It never occurred to me that my thinking was way off base because most religions use a form of brainwashing to keep people coming back for more. I didn't realize this until years later when I woke up and saw that the whole idea of something out in space somewhere who controlled us all was nothing but a gigantic fairy tale perpetrated by people in power. Somewhere along the way the brainwashing didn't take and I kept asking questions which no one could answer except with meaningless platitudes. Now, I seethe inside when people repeat those platitudes without thinking, but I have to control myself from speaking out because I know they will never listen to me. And, in some cases, people need those fairy tales to help them get through life, and I can understand that.
Unfortunately, my mother was one of those, and she is the reason I continued trying to believe in her religion for so long. I didn't want to believe that the woman I loved and admired had been taken in so easily. She was usually one to question most things she was told, but not when it came to religion. The only answer was her desire to be accepted by her in-laws whom she depended upon. Then, after her husband was killed, she had another reason to keep believing: she wanted to be sure she would eventually be able to spend eternity with him. I don't fault her for this, and I'm glad she had something to hold onto through the difficult times ahead.
Wednesday, June 26, 2013
Wednesday, June 12, 2013
Grammies
When my mother was 19, she married her 17 yr. old boyfriend. She was in love and he was determined to do anything he had to in order to enlist in the Army Air Force. His parents refused to give him permission, so he took the only way he could think of to make it happen. He knew if he came to his parents and told them his girlfriend was pregnant with his baby, they would insist he marry her. So, that's what he did, and that's what they did. Then, he convinced my mother, who was now his legal guardian, to sign his enlistment papers. Deed done.
After her husband enlisted and left her, my mother went to live with his family. They took her in so that they could take charge of their grandchild. My mother was never really part of the family. Her in-laws saw her as a scheming interloper and did their best to convert her to their way of thinking. If they had to put up with her, then they would make sure she didn't embarrass them. The only member of the family who accepted her was her husband's Grammie. My mother grew to love her and depended on her for companionship. Their bond must have been close because even her eventual death didn't separate them.
My mother's first husband became a pilot and was sent overseas to fly missions over Japan. He was a successful pilot as far as I know. No one really talked about this part of the story probably because it didn't last long. I'm not sure when he went but before he did he was stationed somewhere out west. He asked my mother to come out and visit him before he was sent overseas, which she did, over the objections of her mother-in-law. Her son was conceived during that visit. Judging by my brother's age, there wasn't much time for him to fly many missions over Japan. He was killed when he volunteered to go as an observer on another flight right after he returned from flying his own mission. That flight ended in a mid-air collision with another US plane in a cloudy, smoky sky.
One night my mother was awakened from a sound sleep. When she opened her eyes, she saw her Grammie-in-law standing by her bed. She was startled but Grammie told her not to worry; her husband was with her and would be alright. Then she disappeared. The next day a telegram was delivered with the news that her husband was missing in action. It was years before they found his remains which were then buried at Arlington. My mother had remarried by that time and had other children by my father. She had been told by other fliers that they had seen the crash and there was no way anyone had survived. She believed the truth in this as best she could, but I think she was comforted by the memory of her vision of Grammie and the words spoken to her.
My mother went on to experience other visions, some of which she told me, and others that, I'm sure, she kept to herself.
After her husband enlisted and left her, my mother went to live with his family. They took her in so that they could take charge of their grandchild. My mother was never really part of the family. Her in-laws saw her as a scheming interloper and did their best to convert her to their way of thinking. If they had to put up with her, then they would make sure she didn't embarrass them. The only member of the family who accepted her was her husband's Grammie. My mother grew to love her and depended on her for companionship. Their bond must have been close because even her eventual death didn't separate them.
My mother's first husband became a pilot and was sent overseas to fly missions over Japan. He was a successful pilot as far as I know. No one really talked about this part of the story probably because it didn't last long. I'm not sure when he went but before he did he was stationed somewhere out west. He asked my mother to come out and visit him before he was sent overseas, which she did, over the objections of her mother-in-law. Her son was conceived during that visit. Judging by my brother's age, there wasn't much time for him to fly many missions over Japan. He was killed when he volunteered to go as an observer on another flight right after he returned from flying his own mission. That flight ended in a mid-air collision with another US plane in a cloudy, smoky sky.
One night my mother was awakened from a sound sleep. When she opened her eyes, she saw her Grammie-in-law standing by her bed. She was startled but Grammie told her not to worry; her husband was with her and would be alright. Then she disappeared. The next day a telegram was delivered with the news that her husband was missing in action. It was years before they found his remains which were then buried at Arlington. My mother had remarried by that time and had other children by my father. She had been told by other fliers that they had seen the crash and there was no way anyone had survived. She believed the truth in this as best she could, but I think she was comforted by the memory of her vision of Grammie and the words spoken to her.
My mother went on to experience other visions, some of which she told me, and others that, I'm sure, she kept to herself.
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