I finally had the chance to talk to my mum about growing up as a witness and my thoughts on her religion, needless to say it didn't go well.
I don't think she has ever really worked out the implications are of what she believes, I pointed out that it is really difficult to relate to (and have a relationship with) someone who is looking forward to the day when her murderous little god kills her children. I don't think she really understood the point I was making or didn't want to think about the point I was making.
It was quite liberating to finally say at least some of the things I have been thinking about for all this time but was offset by the fact that she had so little to say for herself. I asked what she would have done if I had been in need of a blood transfusion as a child and her only response was that my dad would have stepped in, I asked again what she would have chosen and she couldn't bring herself to answer.
Every time she had a choice between her family and her religion, it was the religion every time. No words of encouragement for school or college, the only thing I ever heard off of her was 'when are you going to get baptised?'
At this point the conversation went rapidly downhill and she was crying, not for our relationship but because I don't accept Jehobahs right to rule.
I think that will be the last time I will see or speak to her as I really don't want to put myself through it again.
Religion... what a crock