So Monday was a sad day. The wife moped around a lot, which is to be expected and accepted. She was generally morose.
We went shopping for errands and while at Costco she bough a copious amount of alcohol. Our fridge was already well stocked with beer. This isn’t a good sign.
I can tell she’s wavering between states of crying and states of shock. We only talk briefly about my lack of belief.
Her: “So, why don’t you believe?”
Me: “I honestly don’t know how much I want to talk about it, because I know how important faith is to you. And I know I can be a very persuasive debater even when I’m wrong about something.”
She stairs at me, slightly annoyed.
Me: “Look I just need more evidence that the bible is right, especially if I’m going to believe that my parents are going to hell. Or that your uncle Jim, who is gay, is going to hell for being married to another man.”
“Think about it honey, you’re not homophobic! You love Tim Gunn and that guy from Chopped (Ted Allen). You love fashion designers, not just for designs but who they are as people.”
“Your uncle has been gay his entire life. His entire life he was trapped in the Mormon church married to a woman. They eventually get divorced, and finally when his parents die, he comes out of the closet. It’s not his fault he’s gay. Imagine living decades of your life, not being allowed to be who you are, and then when you are 50 you finally get a chance to find someone you love and who loves you.”
“Yet God tells Moses that this gay man deserves to have rocks thrown at his head until he dies?! And later in the Bible, the New Testament says that your uncle is going to hell. Why?! How is that fair?”
“Worst of all, what if…what if one of our kids turns out to be gay? What kind of father would I be if I remained the kind of Christian that I am. Imagine our kid learning at a young age that they are gay but being told by us that they have to never find love their entire life because being gay is wrong. Imagine them waiting until they are 50 and we both die, and then they finally feel free to find someone they love. To have what we have. I can’t be part of a system that would do that to our children.”
She doesn’t respond. I dare not even contemplate what she thinks of that argument.
Her: “Are we going to have to move back home?”
Me: “No. We have a house here, and you have friends. I want to get a job locally.”
Later that evening we are playing a card game while the kids watch some cartoons in another room.
Her: “You’ve made me one of those girls I pity. I’m going to be that woman who takes her kids to church by herself, and some church lady is going to see me as a project.”
“John faith is everything to me. It saved me from my childhood. I would have never married you if you weren’t a Christian”
Me: “Yes, you would have.”
Her: “No, no I wouldn’t and you know that.”
Me: “You may not have dated me, but you would have married me. I’m still the same person, I’m still me…I’m still special.”
Her: “Yes, (cries) you are special”
The night ends in awkward silence.