the first visit

We had predicted different reactions from our families. We thought, based on past experience with my husband's jack Mormon brother, that his family would be silent on the subject. No one in the family had ever asked jack-mo-bro why he stopped going. Ever. And since they already had gone through all the trauma of having a non-faithful son/sibling, we'd figure the trauma of having another wouldn't be quite as acute.

As for my family, we thought they'd want to talk about it. Maybe too much. We thought my parents would want to sit us down for a little heart-to-heart, something we were not looking forward to, and even debating whether or not we would participate in. We also thought the pain and shock would be worse, since I am the first out in my family. They've never had to deal with the thought of a child/sibling choosing to not go to the Celestial Kingdom with them.

That said, I was a little weirded out when we visited my family at Christmas time and no one said a word. Not a word. I even tried to bring it up a couple times, and no one took the bait. It was kind of disconcerting, staying with my Twilight Zone family.

Before we went, we talked about what we would do about Sunday. Should we schedule our trip so that we're not there on a Sunday? Should we be there on a Sunday and go to church with them, just to be nice, just for the sake of family relations? What would that mean to them? Would they think, "Oh, good, they're making baby steps back to The Truth"? Is that trade-off between family comfort and different interpretations and intentions worth it? Should we simply stay home from church? Eventually, we decided to be there on a Sunday, but find some alternative activity for the day.

I expected my parents to at least invite us to church, or ask us if we were going, but they didn't. We ended up meeting Christy and her hubbie for lunch--a thousand times better than suffering through Sacrament meeting. (Hi!) When I got back to my parents with a take-home box and put it in their fridge (evidence of the fact I ate out on Sundays, aka failed to keep the Sabbath day holy), my mom asked, "So how was your lunch?" I was astounded, though not in a bad way. I had expected something judgmental about the Sabbath and skipping church, but, no. It could have been Saturday for how nonchalant she was about it. (She also asked whom I was meeting, but since I met Christy and Jer on the Foyer--an exmo forum online--I told her I was meeting "friends we'd met in [the state we live in now], but who are in Utah now." Which was kind of true.)

It struck me as really weird. I almost wanted her to say something so we could get into a discussion. But I realize how lucky I am that she is acting so, well, normal about it. She's letting me do my thing, and even if she does disagree or disapprove, she's not going to step on my toes about it. On one level, I think, "What a cool mom. I hope I can give her back the same respect." On another level, I think, "It's better to talk about our differences and come to a better understanding." It's one thing to not clash simply because we just avoid talking about our differences; it's another (better) thing to not clash because we've talk about our differences with openness and honesty, and come to a mutually respectful let's-agree-to-disagree arrangement.