To Selma
Dearest Selma,
I remember the day you met Steve. We were at Chad's Christmas party and he was wearing that silly sweater. The one with Rudolf holding a machine gun and you were wearing that skirt you called the "sure thing." It was so inappropriate, but so you. You never let anyone or anything stop you from speaking your mind. I always wished I could be as strong or as free as you were. I knew that you two had some serious chemistry. You were both doing that thing where you talk through the person right in front you. You were talking with your hands like you never do. Steve was trying his best to play it cool, he was funnier than I'd ever heard. It was a beautiful dance and when you both finally came together, you instantly began talking over each other and flubbing every endearment. I think I remember you telling him that you "loved sweaters" and him telling you that he "once researched the history of high heels." We all just sat back and laughed at how in love you were already.
When you weren't around, we all gushed about how we wished we could have anything even remotely close to the love you and Steve shared.
I remember when Jessie was born. You tried for years and were just about to give up. I also remember when we lost her. I was across the world Thailand and booked the first plane back. You tried to tell me not to come, that you'd be ok. There was no way I would ever leave you alone for something like that. I knew you were strong; you both were but as soon as I saw you, I knew something was gone. I knew things had changed forever. We mourned for what felt like forever. We all knew Jessie was sick, but I don't think we ever let the thought into our minds that she wouldn't make it.
Steve fell off the wagon almost immediately. We did our best to put a blanket around him, but we could never keep him clean. The final straw came when he started hitting you. You tried to hide it but we all knew. We had an intervention and let Steve know that if he ever laid a hand on you again he'd have to deal with all of us. At the time I felt like he got the message. He got himself into rehab and really seemed to be working hard, but we knew it was too late and too dangerous. Divorce was inevitable. There was no way you'd let anyone cross that line and there was no way we would let you stay in such an unpredictable situation. I remember us crying as we spoke to the lawyer. All those good times we all had together felt like they were all for nothing, but at least we still had each other. You had all of us we had you. We knew we would we get through this.
That is until those women showed up. The women with the pamphlets. The Jehovah's Witnesses. They told you that you could see Jessie again and that God had the power to resurrect people. They said all you needed to do was live your life according to the bible. They told you that God hated Divorce and that you needed to work things out with Jessie. That's when the changes started.
You went from running your home, working a full-time job and managing the grief of yourself and Steve; to talking about being obedient and submissive. We let you have this, we tried to be supportive. Though we were skeptical, we all thought you might figure this all out somehow. We looked up to you. Hell, maybe this is what you needed to get over Jessie's death. Maybe it would even help Steve defeat his addiction. It didn't. All it did was tear us all apart.
I'll never forget the day you told me you were getting baptized. By then I'd figured out that the Jehovah's Witnesses were not only wrong about almost everything, they were also dangerous! I tried to explain to you that they didn't allow people to get blood transfusions and they controlled people's minds. I remember you crying. I thought maybe you believed me, but I could see that you weren't crying because you believed me. You were crying because I was speaking against your religion. I knew what this meant, but I didn't want to believe it. I didn't want to know that they had taken your mind. I didn't want to know that anything was so evil that it could separate us. We had been friends for so long. We fought and made up, we grew together. We were family.
Over the next 20 years, I only heard about your life through rumors from friends who saw you sitting at a cart or knocking on doors. I'd heard that Steve was still trying to get clean, but was mostly failing. I'd heard that some people thought that you were walking with a limp and that they had seen bruises on your neck. After you started shunning me, I made it a point to read every watchtower that came out; hoping that someday they might lift this horrendous practice of shunning, however, I noticed one I'd missed. It was from a year ago.
Watchtower Study Edition, February 2012
The title was "Happiness in a divided household"
I couldn't believe it. It was about you and Steve. They were using your life as propaganda.
I was furious! How dare they write our heartbreak as their triumph. How dare they pretend like everything that happened could be crammed into their pitiful publication! And now Steve was in this cult too? That's when the phone rang. It was Selma's number. I'd kept it on my phone all these years, hoping that someday she might reach out to me. I know it's silly but that's how much she meant to me. I answered so fast I nearly rejected the call. The voice on the other end wasn't her voice and it wasn't Steve's voice. They asked my name and said they wanted to let me know that Selma had passed away. I didn't ask how I knew it was Steve. They said the only reason they called my number was because there was a note at the end of my name that said "best friend."
The man on the other end of the line went on about how there would be a memorial for her at the Kingdom Hall and that I was invited. I knew about their funerals and I wasn't about to let them use my friend for another second. I went to the store and bought a bullhorn, gathered all our old friends and went to this kingdom hall. As soon as this disgraceful eulogy began, we all in unison and at the top of our lungs stood up and read this very letter.
I remember the day you met Steve. We were at Chad's Christmas party and he was wearing that silly sweater. The one with Rudolf holding a machine gun and you were wearing that skirt you called the "sure thing." It was so inappropriate, but so you. You never let anyone or anything stop you from speaking your mind. I always wished I could be as strong or as free as you were. I knew that you two had some serious chemistry. You were both doing that thing where you talk through the person right in front you. You were talking with your hands like you never do. Steve was trying his best to play it cool, he was funnier than I'd ever heard. It was a beautiful dance and when you both finally came together, you instantly began talking over each other and flubbing every endearment. I think I remember you telling him that you "loved sweaters" and him telling you that he "once researched the history of high heels." We all just sat back and laughed at how in love you were already.
When you weren't around, we all gushed about how we wished we could have anything even remotely close to the love you and Steve shared.
I remember when Jessie was born. You tried for years and were just about to give up. I also remember when we lost her. I was across the world Thailand and booked the first plane back. You tried to tell me not to come, that you'd be ok. There was no way I would ever leave you alone for something like that. I knew you were strong; you both were but as soon as I saw you, I knew something was gone. I knew things had changed forever. We mourned for what felt like forever. We all knew Jessie was sick, but I don't think we ever let the thought into our minds that she wouldn't make it.
Steve fell off the wagon almost immediately. We did our best to put a blanket around him, but we could never keep him clean. The final straw came when he started hitting you. You tried to hide it but we all knew. We had an intervention and let Steve know that if he ever laid a hand on you again he'd have to deal with all of us. At the time I felt like he got the message. He got himself into rehab and really seemed to be working hard, but we knew it was too late and too dangerous. Divorce was inevitable. There was no way you'd let anyone cross that line and there was no way we would let you stay in such an unpredictable situation. I remember us crying as we spoke to the lawyer. All those good times we all had together felt like they were all for nothing, but at least we still had each other. You had all of us we had you. We knew we would we get through this.
That is until those women showed up. The women with the pamphlets. The Jehovah's Witnesses. They told you that you could see Jessie again and that God had the power to resurrect people. They said all you needed to do was live your life according to the bible. They told you that God hated Divorce and that you needed to work things out with Jessie. That's when the changes started.
You went from running your home, working a full-time job and managing the grief of yourself and Steve; to talking about being obedient and submissive. We let you have this, we tried to be supportive. Though we were skeptical, we all thought you might figure this all out somehow. We looked up to you. Hell, maybe this is what you needed to get over Jessie's death. Maybe it would even help Steve defeat his addiction. It didn't. All it did was tear us all apart.
I'll never forget the day you told me you were getting baptized. By then I'd figured out that the Jehovah's Witnesses were not only wrong about almost everything, they were also dangerous! I tried to explain to you that they didn't allow people to get blood transfusions and they controlled people's minds. I remember you crying. I thought maybe you believed me, but I could see that you weren't crying because you believed me. You were crying because I was speaking against your religion. I knew what this meant, but I didn't want to believe it. I didn't want to know that they had taken your mind. I didn't want to know that anything was so evil that it could separate us. We had been friends for so long. We fought and made up, we grew together. We were family.
Over the next 20 years, I only heard about your life through rumors from friends who saw you sitting at a cart or knocking on doors. I'd heard that Steve was still trying to get clean, but was mostly failing. I'd heard that some people thought that you were walking with a limp and that they had seen bruises on your neck. After you started shunning me, I made it a point to read every watchtower that came out; hoping that someday they might lift this horrendous practice of shunning, however, I noticed one I'd missed. It was from a year ago.
Watchtower Study Edition, February 2012
The title was "Happiness in a divided household"
I couldn't believe it. It was about you and Steve. They were using your life as propaganda.
I was furious! How dare they write our heartbreak as their triumph. How dare they pretend like everything that happened could be crammed into their pitiful publication! And now Steve was in this cult too? That's when the phone rang. It was Selma's number. I'd kept it on my phone all these years, hoping that someday she might reach out to me. I know it's silly but that's how much she meant to me. I answered so fast I nearly rejected the call. The voice on the other end wasn't her voice and it wasn't Steve's voice. They asked my name and said they wanted to let me know that Selma had passed away. I didn't ask how I knew it was Steve. They said the only reason they called my number was because there was a note at the end of my name that said "best friend."
The man on the other end of the line went on about how there would be a memorial for her at the Kingdom Hall and that I was invited. I knew about their funerals and I wasn't about to let them use my friend for another second. I went to the store and bought a bullhorn, gathered all our old friends and went to this kingdom hall. As soon as this disgraceful eulogy began, we all in unison and at the top of our lungs stood up and read this very letter.
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