Vampires

[vaneramos]

Eramosa River, 3 pm.

Additional photos posted in texture (1, 2), and doorwindowwall (1).

~~~~~~~~~~

The world is black and white today, and yet it is neither bright nor dark. It lies somewhere in between, a crepuscular zone where snow crinkles around the edges of leaves and ice creeps upon the still Eramosa waters. Cars for sale in the lot next door look like cadavers, their features muted by body bags. Perhaps they are only half dead, vampires ready to emerge from their coffins when someone pays the right price. A tribe of hollow bodies skims up and down York Road, whispering in the same sibilant language, stories of coming and going I will never comprehend. I sit writing at my desk, or stand at the kitchen window; my thoughts following the incessant hiss of deadly tires. Running and running. Nothing can stop us.

I talked on the phone today with an old friend. Old in my terms means anything longer than three years. I've known Daniel since 1996, which is practically a lifetime. We have drifted apart since I started seeing Danny. We've exchanged voice messages a few times, but haven't actually conversed for at least six months. It annoys me that he still shows no particular interest in my relationship. It was such a difference from the Guelph crowd: last night at choir practice several people asked about my boyfriend. Ray said Danny looked positively scrumptious at the December choir concert with his new haircut. It took me by surprise, filled me with a glow. I love singing next to Ray; he is a little man with a rich, dark bass voice.

Daniel is part of my life. The only man I ever dated who I still consider a friend. I need to let go of wishing things were different, get over my unforgiving. If he doesn't understand my life, maybe he will learn from it. I have learned much from him. It's not like he rejects me, the way some people have done.

Today I received a Christmas letter from Linda P, a woman from my old church. This was the third year in a row. There is nothing inviting in these letters, no peace offering, only a declaration of Christ's love presiding over her family, how He provided for them, which of her various children prayed the sinner's prayer this year. I know what she believes: that I will eventually tire of running from the Lord, and return penitently to the unconditional love so evident in her life. Her only living purpose is to preach the Gospel.

This is a woman who wouldn't speak and turned her eyes away the last time I said hello to her at the grocery store. A friend of 12 years who cut me off when my marriage failed, without once asking my side of the story. Later she must have thought better of her actions. Maybe it was guilt (you must love even the sinners!) that led her to track down my new address, I don't know how. It felt invasive to me. I kept that first letter for a few months, then threw it out.

Last year her tone hadn't changed, so I tore the letter up at once.

This afternoon when I found the envelope in my mail I didn't even open it, but scratched out my address and wrote "return to sender," then deposited it in the mailbox across the street. I had been looking forward to that all year.

Comments

[justapostcard.livejournal.com]

I love it -- "return to sender" -- ha!

[I DO enjoy your entries very much. They're thoughtful, sensual, vulnerable -- I always know I'm going to have a good read when I see your posts.]

[vaneramos.livejournal.com]

Thank you! It means a lot to me.

[ciddyguy.livejournal.com]

I had to finaly do something similar this fall. I finally burned a bunch of letters that I had kept since 1997 when my oldest sister, now a Fundamentalist and her hubby kept sending us letter about how good they are as Christians and the whole exchange was their idea of christianity, and how we disagreed and tried to explain that what they call christianity was not really that and what not.

The letters were mostly their letters, some of mine and an email of a response my youngest sister sent to us, in a response to a phone she had with my oldest sister.

I had to purge those letters from my life and be done from them. I'm prepared to purge her if need be from my life, but I'll still love her anyhow, no questions asked. It's not her I dislike, but her beliefs.

Sounds to me you did the right thing with this gal. In her own way, she is judging you and placing, even silently conditions on you just the same.

[vaneramos.livejournal.com]

It's not just that, but also her audacity in looking me up and starting to correspond, without apology, after she had ended the friendship.

I should mention there are other people from my old church who I occasionally see around town, who never stopped being civil to me, with whom I am pleased to stop and exchange greetings.

[ciddyguy.livejournal.com]

True, her audacity to look you up is not kosher one bit, and to continue to do what she has tried to do as well is just too much.

Glad you still have pleasantries with some from your old church.

[dakoopst.livejournal.com]

I should mention there are other people from my old church who I occasionally see around town, who never stopped being civil to me, with whom I am pleased to stop and exchange greetings.

To me, the religion that rings least true is the one which has, as its requirements, separating oneself from the "sinners." It absolutely amazes me that people believe they can love fellow man without being AMONGST him.

I'm glad to hear there are civil religious folk in your life. I would hope for MORE than civility, but it's far superior to the alternative, which is absolutely hypocritical.

[eloquentwthrage.livejournal.com]

When John was married and active in the church, he knew a woman named Mickie, who was married to one of the ministers in his parish. After John divorced and moved in with me, she maintained a friendship with John through letters and phone calls, over several years.

About ten years ago, she and John arranged for her to spend a night at our home. I had heard John talk about Mickie for years, and it was fine with me, as long as she didn't begin calling us sinners and trying to heal us.

It was a very pleasant visit. We went to dinner, hung out and watched movies on TV, went to breakfast the next day, and did other mundane stuff you do when people come visit. I liked her, and she seemed to like me, and to accept John and I as a couple.

About a year when by, and John did not hear from Mickie. He wasn't too worried, because they had had long periods of disconnection before. One day we received a horrible letter in the mail from her. She apologized profusely for the fact that she could no longer be friends with John because of his sinful lifestyle. Several times in the letter, she wrote "God has called me prophet far too long to..." and continued with insane ramblings. John was more surprised than anything else.

I was angered. For one, God (according to the Bible) calls no one prophet. At least, not to them, personally. And as soon as prophets go around advertising their status, they lose their ability. Also, I was just outraged that a supposedly Christian woman would tell someone she cannot be friends with them because of sin. It's just laughable! You wouldn't be friends with anyone in that case, because Martha is a shoplifter and Stephen cheats on his wife, and Tim has a gambling problem. No one is free of "sin," for cryin' out loud.

Luckily, John was not overly hurt by the situation, and hasn't suffered a day without Mickie.

[vaneramos.livejournal.com]

We fundies used to have this saying: "Love the sinner, hate the sin." People get really confused over that one. It explains why they can't accept that being gay is part of who we are; they have to separate the two or their world doesn't make sense.

I'm glad John was not hurt by that. My life has been much happier, too, since I extricated myself from the mess. It can be disconcerting whenever someone from the past tries to inveigle their way into my life again as if nothing had ever happened. But I'm learning just to smile politely and go my way.

[eloquentwthrage.livejournal.com]

I'm finding the same thing myself. Two years ago, a former classmate e-mailed me after I hadn't spoken with her for at least fifteen years. Although she didn't have a religious agenda, I felt that she must have been an empty, lonely woman who was using our e-mail exchange to boast about her son and husband and their fabulous life. I soon stopped writing to her.