Sunday sermon
posted by bitchphd
I foolishly told my dad that PK's school friend Carlie was horrified when he told her he didn't believe in God. Then again, maybe I did Dad a favor: it gave him a good sound reason to pray for me and PK to be strengthened in our faith, he says. We don't have a chance against the power of his prayers, he says. PK won't know about god if I don't teach him about god, he says. I merely said, "well, that's true," and didn't get into the ways that I've discussed religious faith with PK, nor the fact that PK's athiesm is really pretty much his own decision, as far as I can tell. I did offer to go to mass with Dad today--I'm interested in checking out the local mission--and he kissed me on the head and thinks, probably, that this is evidence of the strength of my eventual conversion.
In my corner, however, we discussed how Dad's going to vote on Prop 85. He and his wife have discussed it at length. He thinks that young women should talk to their parents if they get pregnant, and I agree. He thinks of the people he knows who had to deal with "problems" like that, and how they all weathered them well, within the family. I counter by saying, what if the girl's father or her mother's boyfriend is the one who got her pregnant? What about the girls who are so afraid to disappoint their parents that they put off telling them until they're in the second trimester, when the procedure is more difficult and more expensive? He counters by saying we're just offering competing anecdotes. I don't tell him that his most beloved daughter has never told him about the abortion she had (as an adult), because she is afraid of losing his good opinion.
He sees the proposition as one to help families communicate. I see a "no" vote, I tell him, as an act of mercy for girls who are young, are caught in a scary and time-critical situation, and who don't need the additional stress of being afraid of the law to make their decisions and discussions with their families even harder.
"Aha," he says. "You've convinced me. I guess they can still talk to their families--"
"Of course!" I interrupt. "A no vote doesn't make it illegal for girls to talk to their parents!"
"--but you're right, that's a difficult thing for a family. Not a time to add more pressure."
"Thanks, Dad," I say.
In my corner, however, we discussed how Dad's going to vote on Prop 85. He and his wife have discussed it at length. He thinks that young women should talk to their parents if they get pregnant, and I agree. He thinks of the people he knows who had to deal with "problems" like that, and how they all weathered them well, within the family. I counter by saying, what if the girl's father or her mother's boyfriend is the one who got her pregnant? What about the girls who are so afraid to disappoint their parents that they put off telling them until they're in the second trimester, when the procedure is more difficult and more expensive? He counters by saying we're just offering competing anecdotes. I don't tell him that his most beloved daughter has never told him about the abortion she had (as an adult), because she is afraid of losing his good opinion.
He sees the proposition as one to help families communicate. I see a "no" vote, I tell him, as an act of mercy for girls who are young, are caught in a scary and time-critical situation, and who don't need the additional stress of being afraid of the law to make their decisions and discussions with their families even harder.
"Aha," he says. "You've convinced me. I guess they can still talk to their families--"
"Of course!" I interrupt. "A no vote doesn't make it illegal for girls to talk to their parents!"
"--but you're right, that's a difficult thing for a family. Not a time to add more pressure."
"Thanks, Dad," I say.
Posted at 11:01 AM
|
