Dear Mother all flowers remind me of you….

When I was little I sang a song for my mom in the Primary Mothers Day Sacrament Meeting extravaganza.  I’m sure you all remember this little ditty:

“I often.. go walking.. in meadows of clooover”

can’t remember the rest of it but the end goes like this

“dear Mother, all flowers, reeemind me of youuuu”

My singing left MUCH to be desired, but I’ve always been a big showoff so I compensated with lots of swagger.  My mom still talks about that special sacrament meeting, even now, even with me as an APOSTATE.

My mom tried for a very long time to keep me from leaving the church.  Even though I left home right away after high school she would always call the ward in my zipcode (IN NYC!) and give the Relief Society my number.  I was constantly getting invites to Relief Society meetings and  calls from sisters who said they were my Visiting Teachers even though I never set foot in church.  They even went so far as to send me a lone Home Teacher- no joke.  And this guy just showed up on Sunday afternoon and buzzed my apartment.  I was sleeping off a nasty hangover and one of my roommates let him in out of curiosity.  It was incredibly awkward- my Home Teacher was HOT and I must admit that I considered faking some Mormonism to get this guy into bed.  I give everyone a tremendous amount of credit for sending a hot guy to my apartment to get me to church.  Pretty brilliant.  But it didn’t work.  Nothing did.

My moms other tactic was gifting me a subscription to The Ensign.  This was a disaster because I lived in an apartment with three other girls and I would often come home to find my roommates sitting around drinking vodka tonics and reading bits of The Ensign aloud to each other as  though it were Shakespearean theatre and laughing hysterically while getting heavily drunk.

As frustrating as all this was, nothing compared to when I gathered my courage and told my mom that I had drafted my exit letter and intended to have my name removed from the rolls.   She flat out panicked.  And not because I didn’t believe anymore, which she finally, absolutely accepted, but because she wouldn’t be able to live if I died before she did.  If I died a bonafide Apostate my mom said it would kill her too.  She made me promise, on her life, that I would not remove my name from the rolls until she died.

Maybe that’s part of why I started this blog…  I don’t know.  I hate the fact that somewhere I’m still listed as Mormon.  But I love my mom, no matter how bad things were growing up or how much we have battled over the years… What can I say?

So, on this Mother’s Day, I am thinking of my mom.  I am remembering how when she was so sick in the hospital and I was sure she was going to die I found myself completely unable to pray.  I couldn’t do it, I felt like a fake, like a spoiled child praying for a favor when I hadn’t prayed in years.  The best I could do was sing to her, and I was thankful that I was able to remember all the words to “I often go Walking”… I am thankful for my mom, thankful that even though she is heartbroken that I don’t believe in the church she can see that I am still her daughter and still a good person…

This is as close to a real testimony as I’ll probably ever get…

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This entry was posted on Monday, May 10th, 2010 at 1:07 am and is filed under Random Musings.

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  1. May 10th, 2010 | Becky says:

    Great blog. I loved how your roommates would read the Ensign drunk. I am still on the Mormon rolls too. I have my letter written too. I haven’t quite gotten the guts to mail it in yet. My mom probably feels the same as yours…

  2. June 16th, 2010 | Eliza R. Snitch says:

    I’m still technically a Mormon too. And I hate that.