At least nobody ever says,” life is easy”, except for me. Even in those moments, I know it to be a lie. I lay in bed tonight trying more than a couple times to fall asleep, and I cannot. This nagging sensation that something is missing from my world which I can’t quite quantify or describe. All I can seem to do is feel. Feel for my losses, feel for my friends, and feel for the family that is no longer here. I am given to an empathy that will not rest in the middle of the night, and to the sadness that overcomes me whenever I try to be still. I hear my daughters laugh and voice, then the tears fall. As they do now. I curse myself for not being as strong as I think I should be in all of my righteousness and morality. Knowing in my heart of hearts that I did no wrong, but still disgusted that I wasn’t able to prevent the inexorable disintegration of my most prized accomplishment. I sit here not to whine and boar you all with stories of my pain, which is minor by reasonable standards, but instead attempting to turn it to something good—something productive.
I reviewed a touching article from an atheist mother who proudly and elegantly described her family’s devotion to their child. A sentiment that I feel as well. Even in the face of the unknown I feel strong. Not because of what I am, but because of what I would become. I better father, a better writer, a better provider, and a better peer. I feel obligated to this world and all of its shittyness to clean some of it up, and make a mark that might help someone else who has lost much in the face of doing everything they think is right, moral, and needed. I don’t believe that I am better than anyone, but I know that others are better than me. This gives me the greatest hope. A form of competition more needed than saving all of the endangered species and cleaning up all of the world’s water supplies. Those things would readily follow if we “first take care of head.” (The Toyes)
Which is what this blog is about. It is what I am about. It is true I am an atheist, antitheist really, with a morality that grows daily because of my unconcern for morality in the past, a past full of church. Now, I can’t go a day, it seems, without voicing my worry for the future of my race and moreover my daughter. Another of the articles I reviewed today touched on the subject of the damage done to sixth graders attempting to graduate to JR High. Their quaint little ceremony disrupted by parents that were so damaged by the requested enforcement of constitutional rights separating church and state that they would force the school district to cancel the celebration and simple ceremony. Even in the interview, the loudest public proponent’s only point is how offended many parents were that prayer wasn’t going to be publicly done at the ceremony. Selfish again, the kids being kids would have likely shrugged it off and continued into the summer with great big smiles and budding friendships. Now they get this wonderful memory of their parents force feeding them ancient gibberish about prophets and hellfire. Of course nobody said that the children couldn’t pray to their gods in their own minds and hearts, just that prayer as part of the ceremony wasn’t right. This was not a Christian school, but an institution that is provided all of their funding by the secular state government, and as I mentioned in my review, these parents allowed the kids to attend the school every other day of the two semesters without a whimper.
So here I sit at my keyboard and screen, knowing I will not be awakened by my daughter’s disturbances in the morning, assuming I will sleep at all. Also knowing that I will not wake with my mate next to me, we are just another broken family on a demographic for some politician to make his salary. Remembering the moment of betrayal like it is on a movie screen for me to pay for over and over again I must take a moment from my weeping to give myself perspective. Thinking of the much less fortunate families tonight that will be praying for rain or food that will not come before all but one or two perish, likely in their youth. Oh the wonderful blood sacrifice that we hear is actually just a deity doing things his own way without concern for the continued suffering here, as that suffering is also part of the grand plan. I do wish that the world would remember some of its honor in order to save future families. I would give all of my possessions away in a heartbeat if I could go back to the night before my family ended and somehow prevent it, despite the fact that it was likely over no matter what I could or would have done. Fortunately, that won’t happen, so I will use my time and the tools I have accumulated to make a better place. I will use my voice for the good my species and for myself. Life is easy, when you remember that suffering is everywhere and sometimes it is your turn, not because of dogma, but because that is just the way it is. Realization is a gift none of us can afford to turn down. Understanding is the gift none of us can afford not to give. What will you choose to do?