N
nichjake
Guest
Back in the day when my mother could force me to go to church I heard lots of anti-Catholic information. I remember one particular sermon where the pastor villified Catholicism for a good 15 minutes. In retrospect that particular sermon was the final straw in my journey away from pretending to believe. My first and only boyfriend who was dying of leukemia at the time was Catholic and I spent a lot time around him and his parents in the hospital and such. Never once did I see in them any of the things my pastor described. That destroyed what was left of my respect for him.
When my friend died my mother wouldn’t let me go to his funeral because it was a Catholic funeral. She wouldn’t let me go because the church she belonged to was extremely anti-Catholic and she saw my going as something akin to blasphemy. I’ll never forgive her for that. His last words to me were “I love you” and he was the only boy I’ve ever kissed…and she wouldn’t let me go to his funeral because of the hatred of Catholics the church instilled in her.
When my friend died my mother wouldn’t let me go to his funeral because it was a Catholic funeral. She wouldn’t let me go because the church she belonged to was extremely anti-Catholic and she saw my going as something akin to blasphemy. I’ll never forgive her for that. His last words to me were “I love you” and he was the only boy I’ve ever kissed…and she wouldn’t let me go to his funeral because of the hatred of Catholics the church instilled in her.