What's It To Me?

But it does me no injury for my neighbor to say there are twenty gods or no God. It neither picks my pocket nor breaks my leg.
~Thomas Jefferson, Notes on Virginia, 1782~


If you don't go to the doctor often enough, they punish you by making you "update" your paperwork.  This means starting from scratch.  My son, Matt, and I were dutifully filling out paperwork for his annual visit the other day when the "religion" question appeared on the page in front of me.  
"Why do they need my religion?" he asked. 
 "So they know whom they should call if you die," I flatly responded.  We both laughed.  
"No, really." 
 "I have no idea." 
 I automatically began scribbling the usual default response,  "Christian" when it occurred to me: This is HIS paperwork, not mine.  "Hey, what do you want me to write?" I asked.  "Leave it blank," he said.  No malice.  No embarrassment.  Just, "leave it blank." And, I did.  


My son, at 14, has his own mind, and, frankly, I'm not concerned about his religious convictions.  I raised him to be open-minded...to be aware of hypocrisy...to question when he sees someone not practicing what he or she preaches. I want him to explore.  I want him to be exposed to different religions and even the idea of NO religion.  He is bright and compassionate and genuinely cares about other people.  He stands up for the oppressed, loves his family, is kind to others, and is an all-around good kid.  He may end up Buddhist, or Pagan, Jewish, Hindu or Agnostic or (dare I say?) Atheist. He may even end up worshiping the computer!  (He certainly seems to be heading in that direction.)  I have seen what passes for Christianity in this world, and I am not overly impressed.  He will be fine.

I laid the foundation.  It is up to him to build his own building.  It's also, at some point, none of my business.  I think we are rapidly approaching that point, if we are not there already.  Besides, it does me no injury for my son to say there are twenty Gods or no God.  It neither picks my pocket nor breaks my leg.  And, it certainly doesn't change my opinion of him.  Not in the least.  And, (if there is a God) it won't change God's opinion of him either.    

Things Look a Lot DIfferent From Down Here

I wrote this a while back, but a recent conversation with someone brought this back to mind.  

To my son's doctor, who expressed his disgust with the current administration during my son's visit 

today....

Dear Dr. C;

You may remember me as the testy mom of Matt D. I may have seemed a little defensive when you started talking about “ObamaCare” and taxes, etc. during my son's visit today. I feel like I should explain why.

Once upon a time, I was married to someone who, like you, was a very smart, hardworking and accomplished man. He worked as an Aerospace Engineer and made a very good living, into 6 figures. Like many people who work hard for their money, he resented the government digging into his pockets to offer services to people that he felt were not as educated and hard working as he was. I could see why he felt that way. It is demotivating to work hard for your money and have no choice about it being taken away. I get it.

Because he made a good living, I stayed at home and raised our 3 children, putting my career on the back-burner. We had a nice house, vacationed once or twice a year, had medical coverage. Then he began to slip into a depression that cycled out of control. He made some disastrous financial decisions that depleted our savings and changed his life insurance policy without my knowledge. He eventually took his own life.

When he died, one of the first letters I got was notification that we no longer had medical coverage. Shortly after that, I got the other financial news. I was under-employed, in a house that was upside down due to the housing market drop, trying to help my 3 devastated and grieving children heal. I worked part time jobs and made it my full-time job to look for a full-time job. It took me, a college graduate with what amounted to around a 14 year gap in my work experience, eleven months to find a full time job. Eleven months of no medical coverage, very little money coming in, and a family in crisis.

My husband used to grumble when he saw how much was being taken out of his paycheck. Now his children live on that money. They are able to remain, at least for now, in the house he bought for them thanks to the Social Security benefits available to them. When I said we would be living in a trailer without it, I wasn’t exaggerating much. The job I have has medical benefits, but it is not a high paying position. I had to start near the bottom, my “reward” for staying home and dedicating myself to my children when they were young.

So, you see, it is easy to judge and grumble and resent things like healthcare legislation and taxes when you are looking down on them from a place of comfort. I have been in both positions, and I can tell you, things look a lot different from down here.

Kate O'Neal