January 5th
My mom died a few years ago in September of 2007; I couldn’t tell you what day. She was born on January 5th. I think about her much more around her birthday than I do around the anniversary of her death. An ardent but not always church going southern baptist, she was basically a good person. I miss her.
When my mother died of cancer – far too young – it was the greatest challenge to my atheism yet. In my sadness, it would have been easier on me to think she was in a “better place”. Easier to disregard all that I learned; to ignore common sense. I cried for a long time, wishing I could believe. Sounds crazy, right? But it would have been intellectually dishonest to think she was anything but ashes and dust.
All of our family and her friends are religious. As their tearful condolences and statements of heaven bound certainty reached my ears over a couple months, their words angered me. Why do religious people wail for the dead when they are certain the deceased will have eternal glory? It would be comforting to think that my mother is in heaven and all of the bad people are in hell. Good always triumphs over evil… Doesn’t that stink of an appeal to emotion? I felt dirty; blackmailed after every single tear stained condolence.
I know that I said her dying was the greatest challenge to my atheism, but it ended up being the Y2K of my emotional world. A contemptuous bit of coercion that I am sure no one was even aware of what they were doing. Their attempts at solace trivialized the cancer that killed her by saying my mother’s suffering brought her closer to god and her eternal reward. Their almost superstitiously hushed tones when saying the word “cancer” – saying it is all part of god’s plan. I think that is the chink in their armor. In my opinion, the death of a loved one is the one time to see religious folk drop their emotional wall to show they don’t really buy what the pastor is selling.
Side note: Oddly enough, I think she was sadder when I finally told her I was no longer southern baptist than she was when I said I was atheist. Anyone have the same experience?
I’ve never written anything like this so if you have made it to the end, thank you for hanging in there. I appreciate it.
I hope to see each and every one of you at the Northwest Free-thought Convention in Seattle, Washington in a couple months!
~Wesley
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Wesley,
Hang in there. The two deaths of close people I've gone though as an atheist were my maternal grandparents. It was painful, but at least with my grandpa it was peaceful knowing that his lonely suffering after the loss of his wife of 70 years was over. There is of course a big difference between closing the book an a good long life and losing someone who's life was cut short.
I hope that writing this blog post helped you, as tributes to those we have lost can be quite helpful. Again, hang in there, feel free to mourn your loss and find peace in the fact that her suffering came to an end.
Also, yes, I've had to deal with similar appeals to emotion and my parents also reacted more to finding out I wasn't an Adventist than they did to finding out I was an atheist.
-Dustin
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Thank you a lot… Man, 70 years. That's a life time. Must have been pretty special.
I went between rage and sadness because I was in NH for work when she died. That whole "I should have been there" feeling is hard to get rid of even though there was no reason to think her time was near.
Remember kids, don't let your parents smoke. It's just bad news.