Last year, my kidney stones started bothering me around the holidays. I popped some painkillers and tried to tough it out, but after a few days on the road, I ended up in the ER on Christmas morning. A year later, having almost paid off last years surprise Xmas gift, the fun started all over again… but this time we stayed home instead of visiting every rest stop between here and Kansas.
Suffice to say, our actual Christmas morning was a little lackluster with no gifts to tear into, meals to share, or ERs to visit. We gave the cats some toys and treats, but they didn’t know what day it was (they were grateful though). But on December 30th we received some presents from my parents and decided it would become our make-up holiday.
And just like the real holidays, drama ensued.
Mom’s box was bigger, so we tore into Dad’s first. Big mistake. He decided to give each of his atheist sons (which is all of us) a comic version of the Bible with an inscription that said “I pray that someday the Holy Spirit within you will renew your faith in our Lord and Savior.” Debbie cackled. I screamed. The cats ran away from whatever noises we were making. I don’t remember if he sent anything else, all I remember is a blinding hot rage filling me from somewhere I long ago buried and forgot.
A little background… he’s never been all that religious, but something in his head broke and culminated in an early dementia of sorts. Church went from a status event, to something he had to be active in. He has started pushing religion onto us as if we haven’t read the bible from front to back or (in my case) minored in theology. He somehow manages to fit “amen” into more sentences than I can say “fuck,” which has to qualify him for a spot in the Guinness Book (if only they gave a fuck). And honestly the most annoying is his reminders that he’ll pray for me every time we talk. I avoid returning calls because of that and if I don’t have the energy to hear it, will send him straight to voicemail without a second-thought.
But this book was something else. A comic bible. For his adult sons. As a Christmas gift. Thank sweet Satan I didn’t receive it in person. I have no fucking clue what I would have done or said with painkillers rushing through my veins and kidney stones stabbing at my side.
I was a Christian in the past and have even had stupid ideas like this, but never followed through on them! A gift is supposed to be you thinking about a person and what they want, like, or enjoy then finding a way to bring them some joy that hits a sweetspot for them. I read comics, so give me a trade paperback of something you think I’d like. You don’t even have to ask what I read, check out my GoodReads profile. I have an interest in philosophy, so give me a book that covers theology but from a critical angle instead of a preachy one. But selfishly giving a gift with a bullshit inscription like that is for him, not us.
It was given to put his soul at ease. He can now say he tried to bring us back to the light, but with each bullshit gift he drives a wedge further between us. But he doesn’t care about that, he wants to save his soul to make up for ignoring us as kids and not knowing fuck-all about who we are, what we do, or things we enjoy. Making things better with us is out of the question, but for God he’s willing to drive his relationship with us right off a cliff.
At least Mom sent us some candy and the newest Pokemon. I’ve had a blast with that. So, I guess what I’m saying is, it could have been worse.
