I'd like to digest something while we're on the subject of culture. Growing up not LDS in Utah, I've always been very aware of cultural differences that you might not notice if you belonged to the dominant culture (in this case religion). When I was younger I was constantly offended to feel like I was an outsider. I'm over that now. Since living in Canada and traveling through Latin America,I've learned to use that outsider position to my advantage. I'm like a cultural anthropologist.
Last week, I went to my first Mormon funeral. It was very brave of me to go. When I was a little girl I got invited to Sunday school with one of my Mormon friends (just like all heathens do). I wore pants and a vest (because it was the '80s) and I got ridiculed to no end because I wasn't wearing a dress like the other girls. So, I obviously don't understand the traditions and protocols that go along with the LDS faith.
It was the funeral of a guy I sort of dated when I first moved back to Salt Lake in April. When I first got to town, I went to see Mike Doughty (remember Soul Coughing) play at the Urban Lounge by myself. You know, after you travel to distant lands by yourself, seeing a show in a club with no one is easy. Between bands, I left the bar to get some fresh air (until January '09 you can still smoke in bars here!) This guy came running out after me and called to me as I was standing at the light waiting to cross the street. "Where are you going? I wanted to talk to you, get your number before you left."
"Ok, well, come across the street to the gas station with me to get a snack and then we'll go back." I bought him an ice cream sandwich and he asked me if I thought it was weird that he'd chased after me. I thought it was a bit forward but nothing compared to the romanticism of the Latin lovers I met in South America. It was the kind of introduction you'd find in a chick flick. And even I like to be wooed every once in a while.
So I went out with him a couple of times. I invited him to volunteer with me at the bike collective one night. Then we went for the classic midnight Beto's run; cheap, lardy, 24hr Mexican fabuloso. A potato burrito and grande horchata is probably the last thing you'd want to eat at midnight, but what else is there to do on a Utah weeknight?
He told me that he'd grown up Mormon but at 23 was realizing that his parents, his church and his bishop might not have all the answers. That he might have to do some of his own soul searching. (Maybe he was really Unitarian and didn't know it.) He'd joined the military at one point, didn't find the answers he was looking for there. He'd done lots of drugs, didn't find the answers there either.
Frankly, at this point I was thinking: ok I don't really want a project right now. I felt like he was looking for a teacher, and I didn't want to be that. I shined him on. When he asked me in a convoluted way if we could be in a romantic relationship, I told him in a convoluted way, no. I said, I'm not really interested in dating right now, I'd really like to be friends. Then we had a conversation I thought had gone well. I thought we were talking about how silly it is that some people think men and women can't be friends. But when he hugged me goodbye, he said something like, "I'm glad you understand that men and women can't just be friends."
So I thought he was kind of a jerk and I promptly took his number out of my phone.
About 6 months later, his mom called me. She said she'd found my number in his phone. He'd left it behind and disappeared. She wanted to know if I had any idea where he might have gone. I told her that I honestly only knew him for a short time many months back. That, I was so sorry to hear her son was missing but I had no idea where he could be. She said that just before his disappearance he'd overdosed on cocaine (which is a hard drug to overdose on in my opinion. I mean, I wouldn't know from personal experience, but you know, I saw a TV show about it or something.) Anyway, I said I'd see if he was my myspace friend and tell him to go home.
I had no idea he was so unstable and volatile. When we went out, he just seemed like your average 20-something, rebelling against the LDS church, trying to find himself. It's a very common archetype. You date 'em all the time. The Ex-Mormon dating guide could be a blog in itself.
He had real potential (to successfully "leave the church" as they say) . He was very analytical and clever. I could tell by his so cool boots and the jeans with manufactured rips in them he was trying hard not to show the innocent, small town part of him hiding behind his smile. He had a smile like a lion. Big and wide.
I never even checked to see if he was my myspace friend. I didn't forget about him, he came into my mind quite frequently after that night his mom called. But I never did anything about it.
Then, last week, I got another call from his mom. I didn't talk to her, I was at work, my mom took the call. They talked for 45 minutes about his addictions to cocaine and pot and how he'd left the church. But that after the overdose, when the police found his car abandoned outside of Redding, California and he'd come home to his family, he'd decided to change. He wanted to be a good Mormon boy, wanted to repent and be saved and his bishop didn't think it was too late for him.
They thought he was doing so well. Then one morning, his mom went out to the shed looking for him, (he'd been absent all morning,) and found him dead on the floor, self-suffocated with a plastic bag and some computer cleaner.
I had all those selfish reactions first. I was surprised his mom still had my phone number. I was surprised she'd thought to call me. I really regretted not looking him up. I wasn't surprised he'd killed himself. I really wanted to go to the funeral to support his mom, to see his family, to get to know him better. Sometimes you learn more about a person after they die.
The funeral was at a ward (that's what Mormons call churches) an hour south of the city. I spent 45 minutes lost so I arrived barely in time for the family prayer (which I don't think I was supposed to go to but I didn't realize that until after we'd bowed our heads.) Of course I was the only girl in pants again. The bishop said some things I thought really tactless. Like, death shouldn't be sorrowful but a time for celebration because we know the departed is in a better place. In her cook book, Amy Sedaris has a whole list of things not to say at a funeral and I think this bishop said them all.
Then we went into the chapel, I don't actually know what they call the space they worship in. His mom spoke about his happy, clever childhood. How smart and talented he was, his guitar and his tricks. We laughed. And then she started to talk about the devil taking hold of him. She wondered why she hadn't been "impressed by the holy spirit" to find her son before he was dead. She was hopeful that now that her son was at the feet of the lord Jesus, he could finish repenting and join his family in heaven. The sisters were all very grateful that their parents had been married in the Holy Temple so that the family would be sealed together in heaven for all of eternity.
I think he was wiser than the rest of his family. I think he was unable to buy into the burdensome, overly righteous morality, yet also unable to live without the love and support of his family. And even if his death was inspired by those anti-depressants that cause suicidal thoughts, I think it was because he couldn't contain himself in the faith that was chosen for him.
In his death, he truly became his mother's son. He now only exists in the story his mother tells. He is the perfect son who, even though he had his battles with Satin, was repentant in the end. I, however, have a different story for him. To me, the demons he battled were not the drugs or whatever else his family blames, but the stronghold of the church itself. "The Church's" (as they say) unwillingness to relinquish a soul that just did not fit pushed that soul to relinquish itself.
Love to you, let's thank the Holy Spirit we're Unitarian.
Jennica
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