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Video Reflection on Dying #11--Looking Back on My Life, part 5: WHOSE FAITH—MINE OR MY PARENT’S?
Claude LeBlanc NOTE: I'm writing these reflections on the lessens learned during my life as I face death due to ALS at the request of my children, but I thought there might be something for others to benefit from. My hope is that you will be blessed by the blessings of my life.
VIDEO TRANSCRIPT
As I’m in the habit of doing, I left a loose thread at the end of my eighth reflection when I spoke about being grateful for having been raised Catholic. Something that everyone has to face is differentiating from their parents, whether it’s their faith, politics, lifestyle, or other things. In my case, because of the dysfunction of my family of origin, I was very enmeshed in its ethos, and it took me well into my 20s to mostly separate.
Growing up, when we would pray as a family, which wasn’t really that often, my mother would ask God that one of her sons become a priest. I could feel a subtle pressure directed towards me to answer that call, even if it was only from my mother. So, bearing the façade of the “good, happy, and studious” boy, I adopted the belief that it was God’s will and decided to join the Salesians and enter the seminary after high school. It wasn’t something I dreaded; I had many great friendships with the Salesian priests and brothers at Bosco Tech; I just never discerned that the call was from the Lord.
Of course, during adolescence, my sexuality was emerging, and I didn’t know what to do about it. Unfortunately, I couldn’t talk about it at home; I was raised to be asexual in a way, with the message given that sex was always a necessary evil to be avoided if possible. My father’s only advice about the matter was usually blunt: "Don’t get married." As I’ve mentioned in a couple of previous reflections, sexuality has to go somewhere; if it isn’t expressed appropriately, it will be suppressed and maybe acted out inappropriately. That’s what happened to me and I found out many years later that my father went through some of the same “medicating” as I did.
That gives me so much more to explore. In the next few reflections, I’ll unpack these thoughts further. Remember, my intention is never to embarrass or accuse anyone in these reflections, but rather to promote healing in the future generations of my family, and hopefully to a few others.
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