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Religion and My Mom – Like Oil and Water

A few weeks ago, I went with my asbestos friend around her neighborhood trick or treating to collect canned goods for the local food pantry. My husband and son were along as well. The activity was part of the church’s Wednesday night dinner and study. Sometimes my husband and I go for dinner. We don’t do the “study” part so much, but we often can be found at the church’s activities.

I was trying to tell my mom about this the next day, without disclosing it had anything to do with the church. I told her that we went to Blissfield and had dinner with my asbestos friend. I told her then we walked around the neighborhood because it was such a beautiful night, and that the toddlers played musical seats between the stroller and the wagon.

She got to asking me her million questions (as she has no life of her own and lives vicariously through mine), and I admitted I wasn’t telling her that these activities took place at the church.

“Just as long as you don’t find religion. You aren’t finding religion, are you?”, Mom pushed.

“I am an adult. I can do whatever the f*ck I want to do,” I raised my voice at her.

“You think you hid things from me, but I know. You told me that all those nights you weren’t really at P’s, you were out gallivanting around. I knew that,” she said.

She doesn’t know what it’s like to have a baby in the Pediatric Intensive Care Unit (PICU) and how good it feels to know a whole church full of people are praying (or positively thinking or whatever) for him.  Or how good it feels when he is finally better and it feels as though all those people’s thoughts may have moved something in the universe to create that desired outcome.

She also doesn’t know about my two tattoos, that when I used to come home and tell her she smelled car exhaust on my clothes that it was actually cigarette smoke that she smelled, that I got my roof redone and it had issues, that I have a blog, that I write about her on my blog she doesn’t know about, that I went to Detroit by myself, that I am interviewing for jobs, that our my family’s name is in the church directory.

I didn’t want to tell her when I was pregnant, but I thought even she would have figured it out sooner or later. And I was like 5 months along by the time I told her.

Back to the religion thing. I am pretty sure that I do not believe what everyone else at the church believes about God and the Bible. I do enjoy spending time with my asbestos friend there. I do believe they are a very nice and good group of people at that church, who have accepted my family even though we are a bunch of tag-alongs. I do believe that my husband was raised in the church and doesn’t mind going there. I believe it is good for my son to experience aspects of the church, including the sense of community spirit.

Have I found religion, Mother? No, and I probably never will. Because you have drilled it into my head that I am undeserving of belonging because you never wanted to.

While I don’t believe, I see where it would be so much nicer and happier and simpler if I did. I envy that people can feel like there is something out there more than their fragile human selves. I would love to believe that there is a Heaven to hang out in when I die, instead of having panic attacks as I try to fall asleep at night thinking of the black nothingness when my life suddenly stops and I just cease to exist and my whole life was for nothing.

It makes me sad.

My mom’s hate also saddens me.

I’m not stalking you. is NOW ON FACEBOOK! “Like” that I’m not stalking you and get an update when there is a new post to read. (It is sort of like YOU are stalking ME.)

Feeling Strangled by a Pink Ribbon

Am I the only one bothered by the pink breast cancer ribbons on every product known to man? I have multiple problems with this campaign.

1. I try to believe in the Law of Attraction. What you think about most you will attract into your life. I don’t want my most prominent thoughts every day to be about cancer–any form of it. I do not want to attract cancer into my life in any way. This is the biggest reason this marketing bothers me.

2. I do not believe that all the proceeds from licensing the pink ribbon onto these products are going to cancer research. There are millions of products our there with the pink ribbon slapped on them. It seems like with so many robust funds being raised, that they could have found a cure by now.

Companies think that by slapping a pink ribbon on their product, it will increase the number of people buying it. That has the opposite effect on me, as I will go out of my way to find a different product to buy. If you want to support breast cancer, that is fine. Send your money to an established organization directly, so that you know they will actually receive and use your money. You can also use it as a tax deduction, instead of the potato chip company or the gardening glove company getting all the tax benefits. Or do the Avon 3-day (is it still called that?), where you can raise money for your cause and get physical benefits as well.

3. I choose which charities I support. I like to support the Lenawee Humane Society. Dogs are cute. And it is the humans’ fault that we have pet overpopulation, not the animals. I have been known to support a local food pantry. I just went shopping in support of Pajama Rama 2011, taking place Saturday, October 22nd at the Adrian Mall in Adrian, MI. Is there a better cause out there than collecting underwear and tolietries for homeless kids in Lenawee County? I don’t think so.

So, as you can see, I have my own charities that I support. So I don’t like being tricked or bullied into supporting others as well. I am not trying to be super-cynical. My mother & gramma both had (non-breast) cancer. I know it sucks. But I’m saying don’t fool yourself into thinking you are doing something good by buying a “Save the Ta-Tas” shirt. Try making dinner for the family of the closest person to you with the disease. It could mean a lot to them.

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