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So this post is very hard for me to write (not that any of them are a piece of cake) because it forces me to externalize an internal struggle. 

Both my grandmothers, my mother, and my brother and I were all born and raised Roman Catholic.  Both of my grandmothers were devout until the day they died.  And my mother was “religious” until she divorced my father when I was 5.  I say “religious” because she always believed in the teachings of the Church and that there is/was a God.  But she never practiced, I think mostly because she was a single parent and just did not have the time nor resources to do so.  And then eventually I think she was just comfortable being a non-practicing Catholic while still believing. 

I personally have gone through various periods in my life where religion has played a big role, and where it has played no role at all.  Being educated and a logical person I question the existence of a deity, but recognize the importance of faith and moral lessons that the Church instills. But I am confirmed in the Roman Catholic faith and went to church like once a year.  I used to find comfort in knowing that there are bigger problems than the ones in my tiny world, but that does not mean I believe. 

That being said, I still wore my Cross everyday, and never took it off.  Until my mom died. Because in my head I just cannot reconcile my mother’s death and the fact that there is a God.  Because if there is a God, he would not have made my mother suffer the way she did.  He would not have let her stay in hospice for two weeks.  He would not have taken her will to live.  He would not have taken away her desire to eat and drink, just so she could die faster. He would not have let her die the way she did, slowly and painfully.  No merciful God could have done that.  My mother was an amazing person and did not deserve that death.  

I am not mad at “God” for taking my mother, that is part of life, but I am mad at that way he treated her.  So I just cannot believe that there is a God, and if there is I do not want to worship one who treats his people the way he treated my mother.  And yes I understand that many other people die more tragically, but I just cannot reconcile my faith with the way my mother died.

So upon my mother’s death I took off my cross and have not worn it since.  I have not gone to church, and have not participated in prayers that take place in my world.  I no longer believe.

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