Compartmentalizing was a learned skill at an early age. Not the topic of today’s post, but important to know. My daughter was picked up on Monday at 715 am. Later that day she was telling me about how her mom’s father was talking to her about easter. He claims to be religious. Pushing that agenda on her has been one of the issues in her short life. They were talking on messenger kids and he asked her what is the meaning of easter. She tells him, egg hunts, dyeing eggs, etc. All the fun stuff kids get to do. He tells her no, it is about Jesus.
Now, one of the parenting agreement conclusions we came to was that we could each talk with our daughter about religion in an age-appropriate way. When I made comments during this part of the negotiations, I said, since your dad brings our daughter into his basement to push religion on her; it is now okay for my father to talk with her about atheism. She told me I was using that to manipulate the situation. It was not. In the past, since there was no agenda to push and out of respect for my (then) wife (who last I knew didn’t believe, but that’s another story), I would keep the conversation at bay around our daugther. Now, that had changed.
As an atheist I have no agenda. I would talk about religion in the context of it is something other people chose to believe. That it did not make sense to me. There are also legitimate issues with the church (again, another time). Now, other people in her life are making it an issue. So, I am forced to talk about religion differently.
As my daugther is telling this story there is immediate frustration. “Stop. Why would you put her in the middle like this”, I ask myself of him. “Leave the poor girl alone. Do not put her in that situation.” In short, my mind goes into defense of my daugther and the position this puts her in. Stop. Breath. Take a moment. How better to handle this?
So, a question…
“Does that story make sense to you?”
“No. If someone came back from the dead, they would be a zombie. Zombies are not real. They are only in books and movies. So, that story doesn’t make sense.”
It is not a long conversation. There is no agenda . I am not selling or forcing anything. To talk with her in an age-appropriate way, I do not feel going over all my reasons for not believing work at this time. I drop it. We move on.
Compartmentalized.
I will bring my daugther to school this morning. It is her mom’s two days with her. She will pick her up. Sitting here in morning, knowing she will be gone for two days, the doors start to open. That is where these thoughts come from. The compartmentalization can open. This can be processed. Thought through. Analyzed.
My daugther does not deserve or need to be treated that way from differing sides. She deserves respect. She deserves to form her own voice .
I try not to talk too much about things like this here. At least not just to complain or vent. There should be a purpose, a point, a lesson learned.
The lesson is the pause. Taking a moment to process. To understand she loses by being put in the middle. It hurts me that someone, that I can do nothing about, would be that horrible to her. It breaks my heart. A parent is supposed to guide and teach a child. Not push against the things being told her by a grandparent. Something that grandparent knows her father does not agree with.
To not get caught up in another person being horrible is the lesson. I can still guide and teach her. In fact, the frustration of another adult actively seeking to undermine a good father, is the lesson. You push. I ask. You force. I guide. You push. I pause. Whatever your reasons are, she will see through you. Whatever your reasons are. I hope they are worth the rift you create. You do not build a bridge; you force a river between you. You think you are hurting me. You only hurt her.
There is no fork in the road. There are countless paths leading to anywhere, everywhere, and nowhere. Endless miles of twists and turns. No one walks a path less taken. They have all been walked by billions of people. Each step a different person, a different reason, a different purpose, different choices.
Too much of life spent compartmentalizing. Scared of what was. What happened. What went before. Fears. Hurt. Anger. Bad choices. Bad actions. Bad decisions. All hidden. Locked away. Alone in every room, no matter how many were there.
Now, you are never alone. Every action, choice, and decision involves another. Every look in the mirror reflects two.
So, pause. Wait. Everyday a lesson learned. Every day, better than before.
I wish it were not this way. Only one person loses. Stay strong. Stay brave. Stay focused. Guide and teach. She will make her own choices.
Posted. Not Perfect.
A Vegan Father… working towards better.
A Better Father 