She has past in the last month and I have been trying to decide when I would post this development in my life for privacy reasons. Realizing this is quite ridiculous I am posting it now. How sad! I can not believe I am worried about my hidden identity in this time of sadness. Yet it is poignant because she was the only reason I cared whether or not anyone knew of my "doubts".
As a faithful witness who was baptized at the ripe old age of nine. She was ever faithful to the slave and always followed to the letter the direction handed down from the throne. Her death was a sped up by her refusal of a blood transfusion. I can not help feeling so angry about her decision to deny herself extra time with her children and grandchildren for the sake of this religion.
The funeral was quite horrible in that I thought it was cold and boring. Some "sisters" put on a lunch which was nice but most of the people avoided me like the plaque. I couldn't help wondering why they showed up. Isn't the witness funeral for the living. Are they not supposed to comfort me? I felt nothing. No love, No longing to be there at the hall with them. It was as if I was a stranger in a strange land.
This is the end for me as a fader I think. I fear only for my siblings and other family members. I may be a full blown apostate now.
My mom was the only reason I stayed quiet. The only reason I hid my yoga classes. The only reason to attend memorial.
What now?