Day 2 of a 3-day weekend has been rainy and lazy and is ending with some television. First off, is everyone on The Golden Globes drunk or high? Of course, I will feel really bad when I find out that Harrison Ford has had some kind of stroke event or something. But come on. Ricky Gervais is supposed to be awkward; it's his shtick. But you, Felicity Huffman? What's going on?
Then we flipped over to Big Love. It's the show about polygamists on HBO. It's fairly compelling. Right now the oldest daughter is splitting from the fold and marrying a nonbeliever. She's a nonbeliever herself, really. The big drama tonight was whether she would get married in the Mormon church or in another church. Well, she didn't get married in a church at all.
And of course, I believe just like she does. I wear it like a badge, really. I gave up Christianity at the age of 9. And for the first time tonight, 25 years later, I realized that I must have broken my mom's heart that day. I remember talking to her up in the room I shared with my sister, saying, what makes you believe that stuff is true? Just because the bible says it? She said that she had faith in it, and I just couldn't understand that.
I've always thought I was just so smart when I thought about that day. And I mean, it's not like I can go back and change it now. I can't believe in something I don't just because it would make my mom happier. And hell, I don't even know how much she believed in it; we never went to church, and she had converted to Christianity when she married my father. Maybe that's why she didn't fight me at all on it.
But for the first time I'm realizing, in real terms, how hard it must have been to be my parents, for the very personality traits that I'm so proud of.