My oldest daughter was the first grandchild born to my parents. I will never forget how for weeks after she was born, I could count on the doorbell ringing and open it to see my father’s smiling face, standing there expectantly, waiting to hold and play with his granddaughter. Every day it was the same.

And even after more grandchildren came along, these two, they shared a bond. But about six years ago things changed. My father retired, and became consumed with church and his callings therein, and the first mission came. That did some damage to the bond. But that was not enough. They decided to go on yet another mission. This one was to Switzerland, and they were gone for two years. That one almost irrevocably destroyed the bond. When they returned, they could not understand the distance that still existed. My father didn’t understand why he was no longer close with this child who had spent so many hours with him before. Of course, then they accepted yet ANOTHER mission, this one only to Salt Lake City, but it required regular working hours every day but Sunday. And that’s their Church day.

When my father woefully told me that he was no longer so close witih Chatter Child, I pointed out, “You were gone. You still are.”

“But surely they understand that I’m doing this for my eternal salvation. I could be one of those grandpas that just go down to the coffee shop and drink coffee with their buddies and chat. But I’m working for my eternal salavation.”

And I remember thinking, “Boy, are you in for a wakeup call. And what’s so wrong with sitting at the coffee shop and drinking coffee with your buddies? Haven’t you earned that? After you LEAVE the coffee shop, you can go visit your grandchildren, or spend time on a hobby.”

Last night, this came to a head when my mother told me that my youngest is distant, and snobbish to them. Part of this, is of course because she is a teenager, and as I’ve mentioned before, a mutant alien. But a good part is the wall put up when my parents chose church over family.

My mother said, “Well, when you retire, you have a right to do these things. You have a right to pursue your dreams and desires.”

I certainly don’t disagree. But you have to make choices and sacrifices, too. If you choose to give all your time and money to your church, please don’t accuse my children of not opening up to you when they don’t even KNOW you anymore.

Other parents retire and go on three month road trips. They don’t leave for two years and come home and tell stories about all the wonderful students they met, that just love them, and come to visit, and call all the time, and send them cards. They LIVE for that adoration. Those students considered them surrogate parents and grandparents, and they don’t see the ugly side of them. They don’t hear about fights at school, or problems with friends, or failing tests. These friends have become the PERFECT FAMILY. They only adore from afar. Is that what my parents wanted? I don’t know.

But what I do know is they had their own children and grandchildren here, at home. And chose to leave them. And now they don’t understand it. They don’t understand the distance, even though they are now living so close.

My father has taken quite ill, and is no longer able to do much. A few weeks ago they set out on a trip to Phoenix, to spend a week with friends, and they were forced to turn around and come home, because of my father’s health. My mother has lung and voice problems, and she, too, cannot do much anymore.

They are grateful they served their missions when they did. After all, now their health is bad, and they can no longer even consider doing any of that. Or playing with their grandchildren. Or taking shopping excursions with teenage granddaughters. Sitting on benches to watch Dancing Daughter perform is just too hard on their backs. They can’t consider swimming in a pool, or playing catch in the backyard. This past Sunday my mother never even made it out of bed to go to church, something unheard of.

Everybody makes choices. My mother’s health went on the decline during their first mission. My father’s has gone steadily downhill for the past five years. And above all that, they have a limited income, but they PAID to go on all those missions.

And now they are angry and hurt because their grandchildren are not close to them. You make choices. And they chose.

And it was not family.

The old motto should be Church is forever and eternal. Not families.

Speaking of Mary Cheney’s pregnancy (Okay, we weren’t, but now we are), I have to say, the Christian Right is pretty damned stupid. (Please know that I have a lot of respect for REAL Christians. Just not the Faux Christians who are nothing more than posers with a right-wing agenda that involves a lot of homophobia.)

FYI, Mary Cheney is the lesbian daughter of United States Vice President Dick Cheney. If you do not KNOW this, perhaps the time has come to buy a NEWSPAPER. The Christian right, or at least the numbskulls at Focus on the Family, said this:

Carrie Gordon Earll, a policy analyst for the conservative Christian ministry Focus on the Family, expressed empathy for the Cheney family but depicted the newly announced pregnancy as unwise.

“Just because you can conceive a child outside a one-woman, one-man marriage doesn’t mean it’s a good idea,” Earll said. “Love can’t replace a mother and a father.”

Warning, warning, warning. Cursing follows. Read no further if you don’t care for profanity.

What the fuck? “Just because you can conceive a child OUTSIDE a one-woman, one-man marriage doesn’t mean it’s a good idea?” Just because you can conceive a child INSIDE a one-woman, one-man marriage doesn’t mean it’s a good idea! Those things should come with a warning label, but they don’t!

I just spent the day substitute teaching, and I am telling you, SIXTH GRADE BOYS ARE MUTANT ALIENS. You’d have a hard time convincing me they weren’t ALL huge mistakes. Good thing they have parents that love them.

My friend Robin taught me a long time ago, no matter HOW annoying a child is, they are ALL someone’s baby. And it doesn’t matter whether that baby has two mommys, or two daddys, or Tom Cruise as a parent–oh wait… that might be an issue (poor Suri), but COME ON. Every child is someone’s baby. Usually, however, you hear of HETEROSEXUAL couples abusing their babies. Or selling them. Or driving them into lakes and drowning them. The homosexuals? Not so much. Yes, that could be because they are currently treated like HITLER ON CRACK if they propose raising or having a child, but still…..

Children are BORN every day into heterosexual unions that are among the most dangerous unions ever to exist. Children die EVERY DAMN DAY at the hands of heterosexual parents. But should a homosexual propose having and raising a healthy child, the nutjobs come out of the woodwork. The truth is, love is love. It’s really no different from being Mormon. There are good Mormons, and bad Mormons, and Mormons that should be institutionalized. There are good heterosexuals, and bad hetero… Well, you get the idea. People are people. Love is love.

I remember watching a Maury Povich show a few years back, before he started a DNA campaign to put every toothless expectant slutty mother on his show and expose them as tramps (and occasionally THE WINNER of the DNA lottery). Two gay men had adopted countless children who had AIDS and were considered un-adoptable, and raised them. AND THERE WERE PEOPLE PROTESTING THIS, because apparently, it is better for a child to die unloved and alone in an orphanage than to die LOVED AND CARED FOR by two gay men.

What kind of stupid shit is that?

This is no different. I say blessings to Mary Cheney and her partner. And the baby. I suspect this baby will not go hungry at night. I suspect this baby will not be burned with an iron or sold for crack money. I suspect this baby will also have hard times, mostly because people are judgmental, and silly, and unable to reason properly. But most of all, I suspect this baby will be loved.

And what more can you ask?

Mormons are fond of talking about the power of Satan, and let me tell you, that little devil is pretty darned busy. Whenever something is not PRO Mormon, you can blame the POWER OF SATAN.

I think this idea is growing on me. Perhaps I shall also blame THE POWER OF SATAN.

Long line at the post office? THE POWER OF SATAN!

Traffic jam when you’re already late? THE POWER OF SATAN!

Tom Cruise? THE POWER OF SATAN!

From now on, let’s call it PoS. (No, no, that is not remarkably like the acronym I used to use to refer to my now junked car. NO, that is NOT what it means.)

What PoS has affected YOUR life lately? Just curious.