Rememberment, Chapter XXX: Dreams of Giving Birth

My mom was usually the voice of reason in the household, and the first to point out if someone was spouting nonsense. But she would also sometimes get up in the morning and say "I gave birth in my dreams again, wonder who's going to die this time". And then someone died soon after.

Such predictions weren't always too difficult to make. Being the twilight child meant many of my relatives were already old, and old people have a habit of passing away. Of course, it was still sad, such as when Grandma died: seeing my mom cry together with her sisters felt heartbreaking and somehow surreal at the same time.

But she wasn't the only one to go within a few years' time, and it wasn't always because of old age or natural causes. Mom's brother-in-law was diagnosed with cancer and passed away shortly after. He was my godfather, and although I didn't see him very often because they lived in Sweden, I have only fond memories of him.

Mom blamed her sister for his death. I once overheard Mom saying that her brother-in-law was a good man, who got cancer because his wife was a drunkard and a slut. It was probably one of those things that weren't meant for children's ears.

Some time after, one of Mom's cousins was found dead. He had ended his own life with a shotgun blast.

It was a period when Mom birthed a lot of children in her dreams.

Having to deal with so many losses naturally had an impact on her, but there was something going on with Dad as well. Seeing him smile seemed like a rare occurrence. Was it because of what the doctor had said about his life expectancy?

He started to get even more stern about the Word of God, and often warned me about wasting my time on comics and video games, calling them Satan's ploys to lure people away from Jesus. But I didn't want to give up my interests, and I also didn't think there was anything sinful about my hobbies. Still, it was hard to argue against Dad in these matters.

I did still believe in God, but realized that my own personal relationship with Him would be different from Dad's. I couldn't tell Dad about how I felt though.

Nevertheless, I joined him one last time at the Free Church summer camp when I was in the fifth grade. It was awful - I didn't have any friends there besides Dad, and even ended up getting bullied by a bunch of kids I didn't even know.

It was then that I made my decision that I wanted nothing to do with the Free Church. They were just a bunch of assholes.