Windy Sydney

Every once in a while I get in a funk. A depressive, blah, I-don't care-funk. No, it's not because I left Mormonism TBMs... it's because I am normal. I just have emotions when I am reminded of certain things in my life.

Earlier this afternoon I saw a man walking through my work location that looked like my Dad. He had salt-and-pepper hair, a beard, he wore jeans with a t-shirt and belt. He had a brown leather wallet that was identical to my Dads' wallet. When I was done helping him I had to go on a break and cry in the bathroom. It's weird how things like a wallet can bring such a wave of emotion.

This happens with smells, too. The other day a co-worker had a cinnamon candy in her mouth and the smell reminded me of my grandma. She loved those hard cinnamon candies that were wrapped in bright red plastic. She would always give us one when we were in the car with her.

I moved to Florida a year after my grandma and Dad died. I drove to a place where nothing would remind me of the pain I was in because I missed them so much. I delayed my mourning. When I moved back to Utah, it was as if everything were fresh again. I don't think I dealt with their deaths in a healthy way... I ran away from them.

I still have dreams where my Dad is sick, and I am still wondering if he will get better.

I still have dreams where I am sitting in my Grandpa and Grandma's house waiting for her to drive home from work. The other grandkids and I would stare out the big picture window in their living room and look for her car-lights as she drove down a road we called "The Lane."

When I wake up, it sucks.

I would give anything to just tell them how much I love them. They made me who I am today, and I think they would be pretty proud of how I turned out. I think my Grandma would have been really happy if she was alive when I decided to leave the church. She didn't care for it at all, and found the whole thing as sexist as I do. Sometimes I think they are cheering me on. I just wish I could hear them.

Are they out there somewhere? Will I see them again? I don't know. Thats the hard part.

It's so scary that it brings you to the point of understanding why man created religion. A way of trying to make sense out of death and bring answers and peace to people who lost someone they loved very much.

So much control is given to religion because of the fear of not seeing these people again. It's a shame, because no one really knows. People give their entire lives devoted to the thought of seeing their loved ones in the afterlife, and they are willing to do and believe just about anything for peace of mind that it will happen.

No one has those answers, and anyone who says they do is quite mistaken.

Dealing with the pain of mourning my Dad and Grandma is really hard. After realizing that I no longer had faith in the thoughts that I would definitely see them again (I still have hope, but there is no clear way to know) it made me realized I REALLY lost them. I might never see them again. I might never hug them or thank them for the things they did for me.

So yeah, today sucked.

Sorry to be a bummer...

Andee

P.S. When I went to photobucket to find an image to add to this post, I was greeted with an ad from The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints with the slogan, "Truth Restored." My sadness turned to anger briefly.