I also didn’t have any kind of relationship with God. I prayed out of habit at bedtime, the vocal memorized prayers I learned as a child. I went through all the rituals of being Catholic. I didn't have any reason not to. It was expected of me. I never doubted the doctrines I was taught; never questioned them. I was told that God was a Personal God. I knew a lot about Him, but I didn't know him. I was told that no one could really know God. I was taught that God is a Loving God, but also Just (meaning He punishes Sin). I knew I was a sinful person, therefore I figured God was always mad at me, just like my Dad always seemed mad at me. As a child I tried to Love God; tried to stir up feelings of affection (I thought Love was a feeling and This erratic thinking carried over into adulthood.)
Our children were all baptized as infants and raised Catholic. They learned how to be respectable people, industrious students and moral, upright citizens. They accepted the doctrines and rituals of the Faith and obediently attended Mass with us. At home, I put the fear of God in them; that's about all I knew. Needless to say, they had very little Spiritual nourishment in the whited sepulcher of their home as both parents were like the Pharisees. There was a lot of tension at our house, and tho' there were times of laughter, fun and sheer joy, there was much more stress, negativity, and unhappiness. My husband was critical and demanding. I was angry and punitive.
When we moved to California in 1968, we entered into even more troublesome years. The teen-agers rebelled, and our lives unravelled like a runaway ball of yarn. This toxic relationship endured for 23 years, and then....................
