I’ve written a few posts about how amazing the library is here in Toledo, but I feel today I need to write one more. I was just at the library tonight with my daughter picking out books for bedtime. We do this every other week.

I have a part-time job running an arts program for people in recovery. The pandemic severely limited my work. What’s worse is that during the pandemic the neighborhood where we hold our groups went downhill and it is now too dangerous for us to be there. To be honest, I’m not quite sure what’s going to happen.

Now that the CDC has loosened guidelines, I want to have art groups, damn it! So where do I turn? The library! We are having groups in a community room in our library’s main branch downtown. We have to rebuild but it is a safe place for us.

So excited!

It’s just one more amazing way the Toledo Lucas County Public Library has impacted my life.

So support your local library! 🙂

Hi guys! I’m so sorry I haven’t been posting as much over the past couple of weeks. I’ve been working really hard on my memoir. It’s been fun adding more poetry to the book, but there are some order and organization issues to work on as well.

Really though — I have a lot to think about.

I could write this memoir forever — life and recovery are always changing and moving forward. I definitely have some updates to add to my original manuscript.

I have a lot of work to do.

 

This weekend I have a speaking event with Washington Area Secular Humanists. Looking forward to meeting new people and reading some poetry!

My introduction to death and grief came at a very young age — my mother was in a car accident when I was five years old. It was tragic and sudden — she was pronounced dead at the scene.

At that age, I didn’t understand death or that it was final, and following my mother’s death, I remember feeling a lot of confusion. I was sure she was alive, just away somewhere, but she never came home. Eventually, I realized she was gone.

My family isn’t very religious but most of my relatives do identify as Christians, and even at a young age, I was aware of my family’s belief in an afterlife. I found it comforting that one day I would meet my mother. I liked to think she was still in my life watching over me. She knew what I thought and felt. 

Now I’m an atheist, and I know death is final. That’s it. It’s important to really make the most of life because there’s nothing after it. So with that in mind, I no longer hope to see my mom again one day, but I do spend time admiring what she did in life. She was an accomplished artist and art teacher and I think it’s awesome to have her paintings all over our house. 

So maybe it was that early experience with death and grief — maybe it’s not — but people have told me that I’m weird about death. 

I don’t like funerals. I don’t need to look at a dead body and I don’t need closure. 

I’m cold and I don’t like to be touchy-feely. Sometimes it takes me a long time to show emotion. Sometimes I don’t react at all.  

And as you can imagine, I cringe when I hear, “they’re in a better place” or “we’ll see each other again one day”, but I’m obviously not going to say anything about it. 

I’d just like to say that we all approach death and grief differently, and for me, being an atheist plays a part.

How about you? How do you feel about death? Are you weird like me?

I’m so excited to be speaking to new groups — a couple will even be in person!

 

August 15th — Zoom meeting with Washington (DC) Area Secular Humanists

September 26th — Zoom meeting with the Humanist Association of San Diego

October 9th — Western Lake Erie Humanist Alliance (in-person, Ohio)

November 14th — Eastern Shore Humanists (in-person, Delaware)

 

I will post more info when times and locations are figured out. Looking forward to meeting you all!

1. Know you are not alone — not even a little bit. 

If you are in the States, here are American Atheists local groups and American Humanist Association local groups.

2. Whatever brought you to this decision, it was for a good reason. You did your research. You responded to questions lingering in your mind and came to a solid conclusion.

3. There’s nothing wrong with you (a misconception I grew up with).

4. Not everyone has to know, but you shouldn’t have to hide either. Share as much or as little as you want.

5. You don’t have to prove anything — that falls squarely on the shoulders of believers.

6. Be prepared to face backlash — which may or may not come. (You might be surprised.) 

7. There are resources — books, blogs, groups, podcasts, etc. If you found Freethought Blogs you’re on the right track.

My publisher, Freethought House, has a nice collection of secular books. I suggest Atheist Voices of Minnesota. This isn’t my book and I’m not from Minnesota, but I really enjoyed this anthology of personal stories. If you want something relatable, this is it.

8. Reach out for support if you need it.

Check out this organization — Recovering from Religion. 

9. Stay safe.

 

Please add advice and resources to the comments!

So, I’ve been writing a lot about my relatives that were in the KKK lately, but there is so much more to my family’s story. These relatives were in my mom’s family, but what about my dad’s?

My mom, being the badass that she was, fell in love with a Catholic boy — my dad! 

If you’re not already aware, Klansmen hate Catholics for one silly argument — should god be able to talk directly to me or only through the pope? If you ask me, something that ridiculous is a pretty good endorsement for atheism. 

There’s a little more. Klansmen asked if you’re loyal to the pope, how can be loyal to America? 

My mom and dad dated through high school and college and got married in their early twenties. 

As an adult, my dad was not a practicing Catholic. In fact, he’s not very religious at all. But still, there was always tension. There were fights. There were times that people weren’t speaking to each other. 

My dad’s a good guy — a hard-working single parent — and he didn’t deserve the treatment he received.

People have died. People have moved on, and now our lives are relatively quiet.

It’s just so amazing what makes a family. It’s like we’re all a bit of everything. 

My dad’s family is made up of Catholics, immigrants, railroad workers, and a fire chief. 

And my mom’s family wasn’t just Klansmen. They were farmers and suffragists. 

Both of my grandpas served in WWII.

I just find this all so interesting and I’m looking forward to writing more. I can’t wait to break out the poetry!