Conversations With My Father

As stated in my previous post, it seems as though my dad has disowned me because of my apostasy from the LDS church.

He called last Wednesday night to check up on me (he calls about once every other week just to see how things are going), and the conversation went something like this:

[I answer the phone] Hello?

Is this my son?

I sure hope so because I'm wearing his underwear (this is my attempt at humor...pathetic, I know.)

What do you mean "underwear"? Where are your [temple] garments?

I don't wear those anymore, dad.

Why not?

Well, I've resigned my membership from the church.

Really? So what are you going to be now? Catholic? Jewish?

I consider myself an agnostic right now.

Well, at least you're not an athiest. Of course, we can't spell either one, can we? (And that was his attempt at humor.)

(He wasn't really taking any of this very seriously and acted like it was all a joke.)

He changed the subject to the lives of my siblings (his other estranged children) briefly, but I steered the conversation back to the original topic).

Doesn't what I said shock or surprise you in any way dad?

Not really.

Why not?

You're old man is smarter than you give him credit for, son. (Um, after what he said later, I think I may have to argue this statement.)

So you've really quit?

Yep. I mailed off my resignation letter to the bishop and stake president last month and the bishop has written me a letter in response to it, so I know it's being processed.

So you haven't gotten the confirmation [that I'm no longer a member] letter yet?

Not yet, but I expect it sometime this month or next.

(This is when he suddenly got serious about the whole affair.)

What about your wife?

Well, she's choosing to retain her membership for the time being, but who knows?

Who's going to bless the baby? (My wife is expecting our fourth child in June.)

I don't really see the point of doing that.

And will the kids be baptized into the church?

Not if I have anything to say about it.

Why not?

Because I want their lives to be based on reality, dad, not superstitious myths and lies.

Lies? What lies?

Oh, I don't know...the church is full of them. Garments for one. They don't really protect you from harm you know. If that was true, we'd never hear about missionaries being killed or raped. It's just a myth.

(He starts to get aggravated here because he must think I'm "attacking" his faith.)

They do so protect you! I've put my fingers through the holes of a uniform worn by someone who was shot up with an AK-47 and didn't have a scratch on him because of his garments!

(Okay, I'll have to interject again here to explain something about my father. Yes, he was in the military for several years...I won't say which branch...but he's never been in combat and yet he tells everyone that he has. On many occasions I've seen him embellish facts and transform the truth when talking to people. He actually convinces himself to believe things that just aren't true, so while he might believe the story about bullet-proof garments, I can't help but feel that he's turning a faith-promoting-rumor into a personal experience that just isn't true.)

Well, maybe that was a miracle dad, but people from all different faiths have personal stories of miracles, so your argument doesn't prove the church is true.

(And here's where he starts to get mean.)

The Dark Side has control over you. You'll be at fault for leading your own children down to hell unless you baptize them.

(And...this is where I lost my patience with his "holier-than-thou-because-we-belong-to-the-only-true-church" attitude.)

Don't you dare tell me how to raise my children. You have no right to get all high-and-mighty with me when you were never there for me! (Okay, so that was a cheap shot, attacking his abilities as a father like that. It's mostly true, though. My parents divorced when I was young and I didn't see much of him, nor did he keep up with his Child Support payments, but I've given him the benefit of the doubt over the years and assumed that he did the best he could.)

(The conversation was over at this point...he wouldn't let me talk - and even if he had, I doubt he would listen to reason - and I was yelling at him.)

We have nothing more to say until you escape from Satan's influence. Good day sir! [He hangs up on me.]

So there you have it. Quite possibly the last conversation I'll ever have with my father. I guess I thought he might be okay with the whole thing because he still accepts my brothers and sister for who they are despite the fact that none of them have anything to do with the church. Maybe the difference is I'm the only one of his four kids who has actually taken that final, drastic step to actually resign. That probably struck a nerve.