Raised in Godless Hatred
My father was a godless man who openly professed hatred for religion to his children. My father obtained a formal education and graduate degree yet he openly stated that he intentionally “played dumb” to win arguments. At his memorial service there were two eulogies given. One by me, his eldest son, and another by Clint, a thirty year old family acquaintance who went off on his own path of Christ consciousness.
In his eulogy Clint said that he could see my father sitting there at his dining room table holding court, “With a smirk on his face.” Incredible! I followed his every word and visualized my father sitting there with a snicker on his face and I was enlightened. Even now three years later I am still processing this. I haven’t talked about this snicker thing to anyone. As I have the luxury to meditate in the desert and process my life it falls upon me like a curtain of light: I was raised by a godless and disrespectful man who taught hatred.
Godless in the Barrio
Thank God my Mexican mother had us baptized and credentialed in the Holy Roman Catholic Church. I even went so far as to receive the sacrament of Holy Confirmation, the rite of passage into adulthood. When I was five years old some Mexican kids tried to kill me for being a five year old Mexican kid. A group of ten year olds stoned me with baseball sized rocks in an alley in East Los Angeles. I was rushed to Children’s Hospital and treated for subdural hematoma. It was like I took a bullet for my entire family. We never had to go to Mom’s family gatherings in East LA. Instead of playing with pinatas we went body surfing at Zuma Beach.
Burning Off Parental Karma
My father died a shameful godless death but you do not have to. It was my father’s right to die a disgusting godless death however it is not right to lay that hateful shit on your kids.