Flash In The Pan - 19. Therapy

It’s 4:30am here in California. I was just about to go to sleep, but then a Notification popped up. I figured a Flash in the Pan would be a quick, easy read. My mistake!
;–)
 

I can identify with some of what was discussed. My father was a conservative Protestant minister. But while he could, no doubt, quote chapter and verse, he didn’t do that very often. He wasn’t like the ministers portrayed on TV and in movies. We generally only prayed before dinner was served, and when I was little, before bed. My father never interrupted an argument to lead a group prayer.

His church was definitely his first priority and we knew we came in second to his job. In the decades before answering machines (and definitely before cellphones), we were his answering service. I learned very young, how to take a complete message for him, including the name of the person calling, the time and date, the message itself, and a phone number. We would get phone calls at all times of the day and night even though he had regular office hours during weekdays. We had firm instructions to interrupt his meals without alerting the caller to that fact.

I resented his priorities and chosen profession. Aside from politicians, few parents have jobs that require their kids to act better than everyone else. There is special attention paid to PKs (Preacher’s Kids) and any fault or misbehavior by the child is seen as a reflection on the minister. It’s not fun to live under a magnifying glass. Fortunately we lived in large cities and school classmates generally had no idea what my father did for a living.

We were forced to spend more time at church than most of the members. But my father attended prayer meetings, board meetings, deacon’s meetings, and meetings associated with the groups the church was a member of or affiliated with. If there was a break-in, my father was called. If a window was broken, he fixed it. When someone was sick or in the hospital, my father would go visit them. I think the worst was probably an end of life watch. I don’t know how much training he had, but he offered counseling for all sorts of problems. (I’d overhear tiny little tidbits occasionally.)

My mother cut the stencil for the mimeographed church bulletin and Sunday program (as well as programs for funerals and other events) and my father ran the mimeograph machine. (The first change was to a copy machine process and later a computer. At his last church, he had an executive assistant so my mother no longer had to do those things.) I doubt the church members were ever aware of just how much my father did. I remember a cowboy-themed Sunday comic strip where a minister is shown doing all sorts of chores during the week and an oblivious parishioner wishes to the minister that he too had a job where he ‘only had to work one day a week.’
 

But my being Gay was an issue with my parents. It was never really resolved except that they didn’t want to talk about it. My father realized that if he made too big of a deal, I’d separate myself from my family even more than I did.

When we were young and particularly bad, we would get paddled. If we tried to throw a tantrum at home, we were sometimes pushed out the front door and the door was locked. If we were too antsy during worship service, my mother would pinch us. If we caused a disturbance in public, we were taken outside or to the car, sometimes a shopping trip would be cancelled. Asking for things like toys or candy almost never worked. It didn’t matter which parent we asked, we were told exactly the same thing every time, “It’s too expensive, we can’t afford it.”
 

And 45 minutes later, I’m done. I’m sorry most of it is tangental to your story. But this is what came up for me.
 

Stay safe and stay healthy! Social distancing works. We’ll get through this.
;–)

6 hours ago, droughtquake said:

It’s 4:30am here in California. I was just about to go to sleep, but then a Notification popped up. I figured a Flash in the Pan would be a quick, easy read. My mistake!
;–)
 

I can identify with some of what was discussed. My father was a conservative Protestant minister. But while he could, no doubt, quote chapter and verse, he didn’t do that ver often. He wasn’t like the ministers portrayed on TV and in movies. We generally only prayed before dinner was served, and when I was little, before bed. My father never interrupted an argument to lead a group prayer.

His church was definitely his first priority and we knew we came in second to his job. In the decades before answering machines (and definitely before cellphones), we were his answering service. I learned very young, how to take a complete message for him, including the name of the person calling, the time and date, the message itself, and a phone number. We would get phone calls at all times of the day and night even though he had regular office hours during weekdays. We had firm instructions to interrupt his meals without alerting the caller to that fact.

I resented his priorities and chosen profession. Aside from politicians, few parents have jobs that require their kids to act better than everyone else. There is special attention paid to PKs (Preacher’s Kids) and any fault or misbehavior by the child is seen as a reflection on the minister. It’s not fun to live under a magnifying glass. Fortunately we lived in large cities and school classmates generally had no idea what my father did for a living.

We were forced to spend more time at church than most of the members. But my father attended prayer meetings, board meetings, deacon’s meetings, and meetings associated with the groups the church was a member of or affiliated with. If there was a break-in, my father was called. If a window was broken, he fixed it. When someone was sick or in the hospital, my father would go visit them. I think the worst was probably an end of life watch. I don’t know how much training he had, but he offered counseling for all sorts of problems. (I’d overhear tiny little tidbits occasionally.)

My mother cut the stencil for the mimeographed church bulletin and Sunday program (as well as programs for funerals and other events) and my father ran the mimeograph machine. (The first change was to a copy machine process and later a computer. At his last church, he had an executive assistant so my mother no longer had to do those things.) I doubt the church members were ever aware of just how much my father did. I remember a cowboy-themed Sunday comic strip where a minister is shown doing all sorts of chores during the week and an oblivious parishioner wishes to the minister that he too had a job where he ‘only had to work one day a week.’
 

But my being Gay was an issue with my parents. It was never really resolved except that they didn’t want to talk about it. My father realized that if he made too big of a deal, I’d separate myself from my family even more than I did.

When we were young and particularly bad, we would get paddled. If we tried to throw a tantrum at home, we were sometimes pushed out the front door and the door was locked. If we were too antsy during worship service, my mother would pinch us. If we caused a disturbance in public, we were taken outside or to the car, sometimes a shopping trip would be cancelled. Asking for things like toys or candy almost never worked. It didn’t matter which parent we asked, we were told exactly the same thing every time, “It’s too expensive, we can’t afford it.”
 

And 45 minutes later, I’m done. I’m sorry most of it is tangental to your story. But this is what came up for me.
 

Stay safe and stay healthy! Social distancing works. We’ll get through this.
;–)

Thank you both. Northie for the fine story, and DQ for the fine reason for it being here.

Yes it worked! Although the tone of the narrative is positive , whilst reading one is left with a nagging suspicion that the protagonist is in fact experiencing a ‘conversion’ , and finally at the end you are party to his affirmation. 

On 4/25/2020 at 1:14 PM, droughtquake said:

I figured a Flash in the Pan would be a quick, easy read. My mistake!

You should know by now it's a complete mixture of stuff.  Short, but not necessarily easy.  

On 4/25/2020 at 7:50 PM, Geron Kees said:

Thank you both. Northie for the fine story, and DQ for the fine reason for it being here.

Thank you.   

2 hours ago, deville said:

Yes it worked!

Yay!  And I'm so pleased you felt pulled in both directions. That's what I aimed for.