Messages
by Sideon
I never fully understood the "Latter Days" part of Mormonism. As a kid, I had a sense of despair about these Last Days. Remember that bumper sticker about Jesus coming back, so hurry up and look busy? I knew people in town who had bomb shelters. There were family friends who had a year's worth of food in their basements (and bomb shelters). Every kid in my cub scout/boy scout troop was also LDS - the projects were all about badges and pins, not the community. Before REM's "End of the World as We Know it", there was Sunday school where we were taught that these were the Latter Days and I somewhat believed them. Noah and the flood, Sodom and Gomorrah, and some Nephi dude running from Israel (obviously a lover, not a fighter)... all precursors to some glimpse of divine intention. The commonly uncommon freak storms in Utah were testament enough to God's will.
That was the devout life in a northern Utah town, but no, that wasn't all of me - the closest I came to devout was religiously following the rules in four-square, dodge ball, or the reading contests in elementary school (I read every book, front to cover, thank you very much). As a kid, I knew I was slated for damnation (or Outer Darkness, or the bottom level of that great parking structure in the sky, or whatever the Mormons believed). Damnation, and it all started when I fell in love with the Bay City Rollers. There was something about their looks and sound that made my pre-teen heart go ZING. Years later, my past was in conflict with the psychology du jour: I dated girls, I kissed girls, I played sports, I was close to my mother and father, I went through gun safety and could target better than my brother and father (but that gay flag should have been waving as warning, because I could never shoot an animal).
It's not the 1970's anymore, but we all survived the oil crisis and the hostage situation in Iran. The 80's passed by, leaving a legacy of synth-pop and big hair. The 90's were all about relationships or failed relationships. There were times when I thought it would all end, and for some of my friends it was the latter days. Religion and science clashed with subjects such as safe sex, sexuality, and politics. The Mormon cries became more strident: HERE were examples of the Latter Days. "God made Adam and Eve, not Adam and Steve." The Mormons were heavily involved with local politics in Nevada, Hawaii, and the national platforms. Mormons had declared war on the word "family", but I would never sit back and be kicked or beaten. The Latter Days never came for me: in pure spite or obstinacy, I always had the sense that we could be individually and collectively bigger than ourselves, regardless of what baby Jesus threw at us.
My family got older. I noticed little white hairs in my goatee at 35. Aunts and uncles and cousins who used to drink or smoke got involved with the Mormon church again, getting sealed or temple wedded. The cousin I taught to swim when she was six just had her fourth kid: her biggest aspiration was she wanted to be a doctor and now her goal is six children. Instead of being "in their face" and political, I got quiet with my family. Religion was off limits, topically. I reached out: I sent cards, I phoned often, I visited or flew them out to stay with me. I shifted the conversations from battles to connections. I consciously relaxed, knowing that a lifetime of getting to know myself must be a big learning curve for people I've kept at arm's length.
My father's sister died of cancer and her widowed husband remarried a woman in the temple less than a year later. This created a bigger chasm in the family, since this man was now polygamously, albeit ecclesiastically, married in the hereafter. Weekly family dinners dropped off completely when my grandparents died. As my mother's health deteriorated this last decade from arthritis and diabetes, she has reinforced the edict that she'll "be cremated when she croaks." Even more shocking of her changed beliefs is that she knows she'll come back through reincarnation.
The Latter Days still don't make sense to me. It's an apocalyptic belief, a self-fulfilling prophecy, a mindset of cults (Waco, Heaven's Gate, Jonestown), and a series of mixed messages like "love one another" versus "damnation".
I'll take one sip of life at a time, sometimes bitter, sometimes sweet, and I'm going to savor every drop with my friends and family.
