Where the Fuck Are You?

“Where the fuck are you?” I had yelled at my father.  I don’t recall how the conversation started nor the twists and turns it got to that point.  I just know that I was standing in an Italian restaurant, one of three side-by-side in a strip mall, yelling at my father, making a scene.

Except that’s not true.  The last time I spoke with my father was months ago.  We, along with my wife, my mom and a friend of my parents, were having a discussion about the troubles my wife and I are having purchasing a house.  Shortly after that we had said our good byes as my parents were heading back home to Arizona.  A few weeks later my father had died.

I had not spoken to him again.  So clearly I had not spoken to him just a half hour ago.  No.  But me yelling at him at that restaurant jolted me awake, weeping, for I knew the answer.

He’s gone.

But none of this is about how I a missing my father.  How I wish I had spoken to him when he was in the hospital.  No.  All of those questions are present I was dreaming.  I’m really grappling with where the fuck was I?  But I digress.

What this is about was the other thing I thought when I woke up.  How much easier it would be to think he lives on in some form as many of our world’s religions decree.  That I would see him again.  But I know that isn’t possible.  A split second of longing does not a convert make, sorry.

It isn’t possible.  I know those religions are false.  And in that moment it dawned on me, that there is no separate spheres of what science and religion address.  Here I am, missing my father terribly.  Contimplating the very questions people default to religion to answer.  Why are any of us here?  Where are we going?  What is the point?  And religion, none of them, holds the answer because I know, at the very core, they are false.  And conclusions drawn from a false foundation are, at the very least, highly questionable if not completely false themselves.

There are no separate spheres.  Religion holds no answers.  Certainly not for the questions that matter.

Where the fuck were you?

I was scared.  I was in denial.  If I am feeling charitable I was feeling hope that it would all turn out ok like it had before.  All of that and more.  But that is a question I will have to answer, on my own.

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