Windy Sydney

Appearances have been very important to most of the Mormons I know. Not all, but most. It wasn't about being the most spiritual person in the room, it was about making sure everyone thought they were the most spiritual person in the room. Big difference. It's like one big game... being better than your neighbor, being in the spotlight for having the best... perfect family.

One of my aunts was queen of this style of thinking. On the outside looking in, she had everything set the way she wanted it. She had her own business, her kids got perfect grades in school, they wore the latest fashions, her home was decorated and spotless, and her family sat in the church pews every Sunday. It was all a show.

Little did anyone know that she was a giant control freak who made decisions for everyone in her family about everything. No one knew her husband dealt with things by taking a more than occasional dose of heroin. Their bishop certainly didn't know... and they passed their temple recommend interviews easily.

Everyone assumed she was the most faithful woman they knew. They thought she was loving, kind, generous, and above all a good person. They didn't know her as well as I did.

When my father was diagnosed with cancer, I was 18 years old and fresh out of high school. I had plans to go to college, but I wanted to put it off so I could be with my Dad until he was healthy again. College was always important to me, but it would always be there. There was a chance my Dad wouldn't. I didn't tell anyone my plans on postponing college, and my aunt asked me to stay with her while I checked out the college in her area. My Dad wanted me to take the trip, so I did it for him.

When I got there, around Christmas, she asked me if I liked pizza. Who doesn't? She was just trying to be a good hostess and I appreciated it. She told me that her kids would be home from their various after-school activities soon, and she always had dinner prepared for them. What a good homemaker. Another one of my aunts arrived, ready to "help" me transition from high school to college. I know they meant well, but I didn't need someone there to hold my hand. I truly believe they wanted to feel as if they were helping my father in some way. The whole experience of him being so sick made us all feel pretty helpless.

Miss Auntie Control's home was absolutely perfect. Nothing was out of place, dusty, or even remotely dirty. The Christmas decorations were something out of a Martha Stewart magazine, she probably made the wreath herself, out of pine cones she found from the tree she planted in the back yard... by herself.

When everyone arrived for dinner, my aunt (the control freak) turned to everyone eating at the bar/counter and mentioned how sorry she was that my father's cancer was terminal and that he only had a few weeks left to live. Here is the thing... she knew that I hadn't been told yet. My Mom and Dad made the decision to tell us after Christmas, and they wanted it to come from them. Both of my parents made it perfectly clear to her that my brothers and I didn't know he wasn't going to get better. They also made it perfectly clear that they wanted to be the ones to break the news to us kids. I guess she just didn't give a damn. Merry Christmas Andee, Happy Holidays, your Dad is dying. Would you like another slice of pizza? What a bitch.

I must have gone pale, or possibly looked like I was about to cry... but I refused to break down. She looked at me with obvious fake sympathy saying something like, "Andee... you knew... right?" She isn't a very good actress. Luckily, I am.

I played it off, and I didn't want to give her the satisfaction. I pretended like I knew it all along. She wasn't going to control me, or my reactions. It's funny, but within the span of 10 minutes I got a glimpse into the mind of a woman who didn't give a damn who she hurt, as long as she was the one in control. It was a tad bit scary.

The night went on and we eventually went out to do some Christmas shopping. I picked out a couple outfits that I liked (it's not like I was without a job and penniless... I was working full time, and helping my parents when or if they needed it. I was a grown up, making my own financial decisions) and she would make comments like, "Are you sure you want to spend your money on that?" or "Maybe you should wait to buy that..." Was it any of her business? Did I ask for her opinion?

We went to the local university and scouted the music program that I knew I would have wanted to be a part of. I only half-way went through the motions, knowing that I didn't want to get emotionally attached to the school because I knew I wasn't going to be able to go... especially now that I had the knowledge of my Dad's terminal cancer. Dearest Auntie began telling me what classes I should be taking, and what I should be planning for in my future. Whatever lady.

I was helping them wrap their Christmas gifts, and they started in on discussing the church and it's many blessings. The only reason they were able to buy such nice Christmas presents was because they paid their tithing, they said. The only reason they had such a nice home due to the 10% they paid every single month. I didn't want to cause trouble for my Dad and his sisters during this time, so I kept my mouth shut. Those who read this blog regularly know how hard that was for me.

The weekend eventually came to an end, and I drove all the way back home. It was about a 3 and a half hour drive. I spent the whole time crying, because I knew I would see my Dad that day... but would I see him the next?

My Dad ended up passing away on January 17, 1998. My Mom was distraught, and I can't even bring up a word that could come close to describing the mental and emotional state I was in at the time. My father was an amazing man. He wasn't perfect, but he and my mother taught me what being a good person means. I knew I would miss him, and I knew I wanted to make him proud of me.

Mom started attending church again. She was taking classes to become temple ready so she could get my father sealed to us in the temple. She told everyone on both sides of the family that it was important for her to do this. She was raised strictly in the church, and she felt at the time that getting to the temple was the only way to see her husband again.

A few weeks later we get a phone call from Auntie Control. "We are planning on going to the Manti temple. It's going to be on this date _____. We would like you and the kids to be there." I could have killed her. Really. She knew that my Mom was going to take care of things, but she had to get herself involved. She took that moment away from my Mother, and even though I didn't believe in the church (even then) I knew it would be good for my Mom to do it. It would help her heal and move on.

Mom, brother and I drove to Manti. We were unable to take part in the temple sealing because we didn't have recommends. Auntie knew this. Do you think she gave a crap? No. What were her first words when she saw us? "Since you guys can't go inside, it would be great if you could watch the little kids for us." What? Are you fucking kidding me? You want me to wait outside a religious building that you claim I am not righteous enough for, while you do work for my father, and on top of that you want me to watch your little brats? What the hell is wrong with you? What the hell is wrong with a church that would ask that (referring to the part where families are separated from the righteous and the sinners.)

A few months after I moved to Orlando, I got a phone call from my Mom. She wasn't sure how to tell me the news she had... but she found a way. My uncle, dear auntie control's husband, was found in a coma on the streets of Las Vegas. Police say he was attempting to buy heroin from a drug dealer, but the buy went wrong and the dealer shot him full of some kind of drug and robbed him. He was left in the Las Vegas sun for hours and hours before he was found. Luckily, he survived and is now doing fine. As far as I know, he has beaten his drug habit and I sincerely wish him the best. A few of the people I know said, "If I had to live with her, I would be hooked on drugs, too!" A little harsh, but sort of true.

What bothers me is that she and her husband walked into the temple grounds in Manti, she told me it would be "great" if I could watch everyone's kids while she went inside, and she didn't deserve to be there.

This is where the appearances theme fits in. She was more concerned with what other people would think of her than actually believing and following through with her supposed beliefs that the temple was for worthy people only. She knew she was hurting us by leaving us outside that day, and it didn't even phase her. She was fine as long as everyone thought she was the perfect person she pretended to be.

I am not saying that all Mormons are this way. I know this story and these events wouldn't possibly happen to other people in the same manner, but I truly believe that the church puts pressure on it's members to maintain that constant state of perfection. I know many people will disagree, and that is fine... but my mind immediately goes to the talk that Julie B. Beck made at General Conference last October. Here are a couple of my favorite quotes:

They bring daughters in clean and ironed dresses with hair brushed to perfection; their sons wear white shirts and ties and have missionary haircuts. These mothers know they are going to sacrament meeting, where covenants are renewed. These mothers have made and honor temple covenants. They know that if they are not pointing their children to the temple, they are not pointing them toward desired eternal goals. These mothers have influence and power.

Latter-day Saint women should be the very best in the world at upholding, nurturing, and protecting families. I have every confidence that our women will do this and will come to be known as mothers who "knew."