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Anger: Sins of Omission
November 23rd, 2009
Current Mood:screaming at luggage
Brother P didn't want the unabridged version of Why I Left the Catholic Church, so I didn't bother to explain it further, but... dangit, it isn't just that Bishop M said something I disagreed with. It's that, when the Church needs money for feeding poor people, comforting cancer victims, helping beaten wives and unwed mothers, and (wedged in on the same bill) buying the nuns new rulers to hit kids with...in that case, they pass the hat. An ornate, large hat, but still a pledge drive. Kidding aside, I don't have a problem with funding Catholic schools, so I wrote them a check back in May, for a goodly amount, lump sum, up front, no waiting months to get it in small chunks. ... but when a Hot Button Political Issue rolls into town, suddenly Bishop M has Big National Funders and Money is No Object. (Was this whole Marriage Equality law just a scam by the Legislature to get people to pour money into the state from richer regions and deeper pockets?)
I'm supposed to be packing. Brother P just called to tell me what to pack. It includes shaving cream. First time in years I'll be somewhere where I need to shave, but can't just use...well, some of Dad's shaving cream. Why doesn't P have shaving cream? (I don't want him to feel bad, so I don't ask.) I just want to hit myself in the face with a rock. I read somewhere that the time we spend is pieces of our lives. We fritter it all away on worthless nonsense because we can't tell what's important, what we're going to need later on. I don't know what to put in Dad's casket. I don't even remember what I put in Mom's. Cram everything into a suitcase and run, and hope that it turns out in the end.
November 23rd, 2009
Current Mood:screaming at luggage
Brother P didn't want the unabridged version of Why I Left the Catholic Church, so I didn't bother to explain it further, but... dangit, it isn't just that Bishop M said something I disagreed with. It's that, when the Church needs money for feeding poor people, comforting cancer victims, helping beaten wives and unwed mothers, and (wedged in on the same bill) buying the nuns new rulers to hit kids with...in that case, they pass the hat. An ornate, large hat, but still a pledge drive. Kidding aside, I don't have a problem with funding Catholic schools, so I wrote them a check back in May, for a goodly amount, lump sum, up front, no waiting months to get it in small chunks. ... but when a Hot Button Political Issue rolls into town, suddenly Bishop M has Big National Funders and Money is No Object. (Was this whole Marriage Equality law just a scam by the Legislature to get people to pour money into the state from richer regions and deeper pockets?)
I'm supposed to be packing. Brother P just called to tell me what to pack. It includes shaving cream. First time in years I'll be somewhere where I need to shave, but can't just use...well, some of Dad's shaving cream. Why doesn't P have shaving cream? (I don't want him to feel bad, so I don't ask.) I just want to hit myself in the face with a rock. I read somewhere that the time we spend is pieces of our lives. We fritter it all away on worthless nonsense because we can't tell what's important, what we're going to need later on. I don't know what to put in Dad's casket. I don't even remember what I put in Mom's. Cram everything into a suitcase and run, and hope that it turns out in the end.
