More Things to Get Upset About (From Charlie’s Diary)

Once again, I’m worrying about what people think and feeling guilty.  Betsey is saying that she doesn’t want to go to Sunday School.  I’m not going to force her, so I’m afraid people will think I’m a wishy-washy parent.  I know I shouldn’t care.  God doesn’t care.

Karen and Nikki and I talk about what people think and feeling guilty a lot.  When Nikki didn’t have any luck nursing Jennifer, she was mortified.  Then when Ilsa was born, she felt she had to try again, or everyone would think she was a quitter.  When it didn’t work out, she kept the nursing gear around and always told her mother and her sisters that she was just giving the baby a “supplementary bottle.”  In a pinch, she would excuse herself and take the baby into the bedroom. 

Karen says that when her mother comes over, she has to hide all the organic food, because her mother thinks it’s too expensive and people who buy it are dupes of the food industry because it really doesn’t make any difference and the food probably isn’t organic in the first place.

Anyway.  It seemed to be a rite of passage in the Unitarian Church for teenagers to decide they didn’t want a part of any religion.  So they didn’t go and their parents would talk to the other parents and be reassured that they would get over it, particularly if the rest of the family started going out for fancy lunches or to the movies after church and did not go back home to get them.  Of course, after the prodigal started attending again, they had to keep up with the outings, which wasn’t a bad thing.

I didn’t rebel until I went to college and became an Episcopalian.  My mother was mortified, but her friends were very supportive and told her that at least if I was a Jesus freak, I probably wouldn’t have sex before I was married.  Aunt Pooh told me this years later and added that that was comforting, because if there’s one thing more upsetting than the idea of your parents having sex, it’s the idea of your children doing it, even if they’re married.  Aunt Pooh said she likes to think her grandchildren were left at the door in baskets or were picked up at the hospital.

I think I’m going to do what Kate suggested when Cilla was turning Catholic.  If anyone asks, where Betsey is, I’ll just say, “Oh, she’s around somewhere.”  I think it would be mean to start going out after church without her, and anyway, Ed likes to sit around on Sunday and watch sports.

Discussion Group on Wheels (From Charlie's Diary)

I have to say that some of the most interesting quality time I’ve had with the kids comes when we’re all together in the car. 

Since Christmas, the rides home from church been quieter, since no one is complaining about Episcopalian Advent.  Not that there isn’t discussion, like why is so and so such a big moron and how we shouldn’t call people morons, but isn’t so and so one anyway even if we don’t say it?

But today, Betsey was particularly quiet.  Normally, she is correcting Josh and Cilla about something.  I looked at her in the mirror, and she looked upset.  “Is something bothering you, Betsey?”

She started to cry, “I. . . I. . . don’t . . . don’t . . like . . .”

“Don’t like what?”  By now, Cilla and Josh and stopped whatever they were doing to annoy each other and were looking at Betsey.

“I . . don’t  . . . like . . Jesus anymore.” 

Then Cilla started to cry.  “Betsey’s going to go to Hell!”  She would have thrown her arms around her if Josh hadn’t been sitting between them.

“Betsey’s not going to go to Hell,” I said, trying to be the voice of reason.  “Why don’t you like Jesus?”

“Because of the pigs.”  I knew exactly what she meant.  Jesus drove demons out of two men who were possessed into a herd of pigs, who ran off a cliff into a lake and drowned.

“What pigs?”  Cilla wanted to know. 

“We’ll talk about it later,” I said.  Cilla was not ready for the story of the pigs.  I can barely handle it myself.

Betsey and Cilla were crying louder than ever.  Ed looked like he wanted to tell them to be quiet, because he was trying to drive (with expletives), but was restraining himself.

Where was Kate with her therapist talk when we needed her?

I took a deep breath.  “Betsey is not going to Hell, although it’s very nice of your to be concerned for her, Cilla.  And you, too, Josh.”  (Inside, I was praying, “Please, God, don’t let them ask how I know.”)

“When we get home, we can talk about it.  Or maybe you can talk to Grandma Kate or Father Mike.”

“I can’t tell them, they’ll hate me.”

“Nobody is going to hate you, especially not Grandma Kate or Father Mike,” I said.

“Sure,” Josh added.  “They get paid not to.”  If he’d been older I would have thought he was being snarky, but he was perfectly serious.  Ed snorted and I gave him a Look.

We finally got home.  I herded everyone into the house.  I would have given Betsey something to eat, but she ran up to her room and didn’t want anyone to come with her.

She stuck her head out the door and called down, “Don’t call Grandma Kate.  And don’t anyone tell her.  Don’t tell anybody.”

“No, way, Jose,” Josh said.  “I’m too embarrassed.” 

I briefly wondered if that was racist and what I should say about his being embarrassed by his sister’s spiritual crisis, but I didn’t know where to start.

Fortunately, I’m a Christian, and I can pray about this.  But I can hear my father saying, “If you weren’t a Christian, she never would have heard of those damn pigs.”

Strategy Session

I always dread the end of the Christmas season, when things are going to go back to normal, except that the weather is terrible.   But a few days after Epiphany, when it seems like Christmas had never happened, I feel relieved.  I always think things will slow down and I can relax a little.  Once in a while, things are quiet for a day or so.

Karen and Nikki and I got together to see if we’d made any progress in our investigations.  They had tried to get in touch with Margaret with a Ouija board on Halloween.  “The candle acted really weird. The flame kept going up and down.  But that’s about all.  I think the problem was that she didn’t know us.  She probably would have talked to you.”

I am afraid of Ouija boards.  I read that they are a gateway for evil spirits.  Karen and Nikki think that’s crazy, but I don’t think they have any room to talk.

Nikki had not had much luck with the stores in Margaret’s neighborhood.  “You really can’t strike up a casual conversation with someone and say, ‘By the way, did Margaret Edwards ever come in here and what did she buy?  And who do you think whacked her?’  Maybe I should have said I was a cop.”

“You could have gotten arrested.” I’m glad she hadn’t.  Ed would have had a fit if I had had to bail her out.

Karen had had some luck.  She was getting to know people at the Methodist church.  “I’m still getting the feel of the place.  I mostly know the Sunday School moms and they weren’t buddies with Margaret.  I’ve got to cultivate the old ladies.”

“Offer to help at Coffee Hour,” Nikki advised. “Next month it’ll be a year since she died.  You could bring it up.  Find out who the biggest gossip is.  And don’t forget the old guys.  They’d be thrilled to have you pay attention to them.  Have any of them hit on you?”

“Nikki, what do you think goes on in churches?”

“The same things that go on everywhere else.”

When I thought it over, I saw she was right.

 

Get out the Kleenex and Popcorn!

Downton Abbey starts tonight!  Karen, Nikki, Janet, Kate and I all watch it, although we can’t get together since it’s on a school and work night.  Ed gets the kids to bed.  (We made a deal; I keep them out of his hair during the World Series.)  I record the episodes for Betsey and Cilla, since they love the clothes.

Of course, we all have our favorites.  Mine is Mrs. Hughes.  Karen was surprised that it wasn’t Mrs. Crawley, but Nikki says I don’t have a mother anymore and Mrs. Hughes is kind of the mother of everybody downstairs.

Mrs. Crawley is Aunt Pooh’s favorite.  She says she reminds her of her Aunt Harriet (named after Harriet Beecher Stowe.  She turned out to be the political sister while my grandmother, Alice, (as in In Wonderland) was the artistic one. 

Karen, who is a romantic, likes Anna best and Nikki’s favorite is the Dowager Countess.  I don’t know why.

Kate says she can’t decide between Thomas and Miss O’Brien, since they’re both misunderstood. 

Janet says she identifies with Mrs. Patmore, since she has had cataract surgery and she always wished she could cook.  (When we were talking about this at Christmas dinner, Kate jumped in and said Janet shouldn’t put herself down like that, although she didn’t contradict her.  Actually, Ed said there were two dinner choices when he was growing up:  take it or leave it.  But you could always make yourself a peanut butter sandwich.)

I was surprised to hear that my father had an opinion, since it was not his kind of show.  He said Cora is beautiful.  Betsey and Cilla made gagging noises.  Cilla likes Daisy and Betsey cried when Sybil died. 

So, readers, we’ll all be watching tonight.  Let’s hope Edith finds true love, that Mrs. Crawley turns to the doctor (I forget his name, but he’s very nice), and Mr. Carson and Mrs. Hughes hook up.

Who is your favorite and what do you think will happen?  Click “No comment.”