Here’s a family story related to the hypocrisy of Christian moral. I am not really sure why I share this, but oh well…I hope it is coherent, because English is not my native language.
My parents are typical Dutch baby boomers, born in the late 1940’s. They met because my father’s oldest brother was dating my mother’s sister (!) at the age of sixteen. My parents are still happily together.
My mother and aunt were raised reformed, but not really strict. My father and uncle though, were taught that every word in the bible was true; Calvinistic. My father never believed a bit of the bible, but my uncle did so very much. He was an artist and God was his central theme. My grandfather even did not go to church because he only believed the word of the bible. He was a good lad though, raised in different times.
During the late 1970’s it turned out my uncle and aunt could not have children, which was heartbreaking especially to my aunt. The problem was that my uncle couldn’t have a sex at all because of some erectile dysfunction. My aunt went nuts on it and besides lots of therapy to cope; she also had sessions under hypnosis. Through this hypnosis she ‘found out’ she was sexually abused by her father. My mother couldn’t stand this accusation, because she didn’t believe it and also because he died when my mother was just eleven and he couldn’t defend himself. As you can imagine, the relation between my parents and my uncle and aunt became very much troubled. They hardly spoke for years.
In 1987 my parents found out my uncle suffered from cancer. My father immediately started visiting my uncle in hospital and my mother supported my aunt during this process despite the accusations.
Every time my father visited his brother in hospital, he had to wear gloves and a mask (don’t know the exact word) on his mouth to prevent bacterial infection. My father found this very odd and after weeks of visiting he suddenly saw the light; his brother doesn’t have cancer, he has aids and the glove was not to protect his brother, but my father (at the time, not a lot was known on HIV). My father asked my uncle on the next visit and he, already very ill, indeed admitted he had aids. My father told his brother that he would tell their parents later at night, because they still had hope for my uncle to recover. My uncle agreed.
In the following weeks, my uncle’s condition got worse and therefore my uncle asked my father and the doctor to set up euthanasia. My father told my grandfather and he supported his son’s wish to end his suffering (although it was against his beliefs!). His wife was not involved, because my uncle knew she would never approve it. Autumn 1988, the family was gathered around the bed and my aunt asked the doctor what the purpose of the injection was? The doctor lied, following my uncle’s wish to die.
Of course my parents were very aware that my uncle had been secretly gay, but did not inform the rest of the family to spare my uncle’s legacy. My aunt later learned the truth somehow and drank poison in a suicide attempt. She survived, but a few years later she died of throat cancer as a result of this attempt.
After her death in 1997…the family found letters on different hidden places in their house. Some of the letters were written by my uncle’s secret lovers and others were of my aunt. In the letters my aunt admitted she was never sexually abused by her grandfather.
Anybody else eager to share happy stories involving Christian morals?
My parents are typical Dutch baby boomers, born in the late 1940’s. They met because my father’s oldest brother was dating my mother’s sister (!) at the age of sixteen. My parents are still happily together.
My mother and aunt were raised reformed, but not really strict. My father and uncle though, were taught that every word in the bible was true; Calvinistic. My father never believed a bit of the bible, but my uncle did so very much. He was an artist and God was his central theme. My grandfather even did not go to church because he only believed the word of the bible. He was a good lad though, raised in different times.
During the late 1970’s it turned out my uncle and aunt could not have children, which was heartbreaking especially to my aunt. The problem was that my uncle couldn’t have a sex at all because of some erectile dysfunction. My aunt went nuts on it and besides lots of therapy to cope; she also had sessions under hypnosis. Through this hypnosis she ‘found out’ she was sexually abused by her father. My mother couldn’t stand this accusation, because she didn’t believe it and also because he died when my mother was just eleven and he couldn’t defend himself. As you can imagine, the relation between my parents and my uncle and aunt became very much troubled. They hardly spoke for years.
In 1987 my parents found out my uncle suffered from cancer. My father immediately started visiting my uncle in hospital and my mother supported my aunt during this process despite the accusations.
Every time my father visited his brother in hospital, he had to wear gloves and a mask (don’t know the exact word) on his mouth to prevent bacterial infection. My father found this very odd and after weeks of visiting he suddenly saw the light; his brother doesn’t have cancer, he has aids and the glove was not to protect his brother, but my father (at the time, not a lot was known on HIV). My father asked my uncle on the next visit and he, already very ill, indeed admitted he had aids. My father told his brother that he would tell their parents later at night, because they still had hope for my uncle to recover. My uncle agreed.
In the following weeks, my uncle’s condition got worse and therefore my uncle asked my father and the doctor to set up euthanasia. My father told my grandfather and he supported his son’s wish to end his suffering (although it was against his beliefs!). His wife was not involved, because my uncle knew she would never approve it. Autumn 1988, the family was gathered around the bed and my aunt asked the doctor what the purpose of the injection was? The doctor lied, following my uncle’s wish to die.
Of course my parents were very aware that my uncle had been secretly gay, but did not inform the rest of the family to spare my uncle’s legacy. My aunt later learned the truth somehow and drank poison in a suicide attempt. She survived, but a few years later she died of throat cancer as a result of this attempt.
After her death in 1997…the family found letters on different hidden places in their house. Some of the letters were written by my uncle’s secret lovers and others were of my aunt. In the letters my aunt admitted she was never sexually abused by her grandfather.
Anybody else eager to share happy stories involving Christian morals?
