Authors: Cindi Jones
In the refrigerator, I would have, potatoes, and carrots.
Once or twice a month, I could get some eggs.
These were very inexpensive. I could purchase enough of these to provide enough to eat. What I was lacking was enough protein.
Needless to say, I lost a lot of weight. I didn’t mind. It was helping me pass better.
Squirrel had been set to work on all of these survival tasks.
She
was always looking for something to eat or some small way to pad a travel account. Since I traveled a couple times a month, I got by
on some minimal level
.
This would be how I lived for the next 7 years.
As I was talking to Charlene just a few years ago, we talked about how little I had
at the time
.
“But you were making $82,00 a year weren’t you?”
“No,” I replied “I made $40,000 in Utah.
When I moved to California, I got a job for substantially less. I had not contested the settlement agreement in the divorce. I did feel very guilty at the time and I knew I deserved whatever they asked. I never realized they based the settlement and child support based on $82k. It didn’t matter what I made, it cost money to rear a family and Charlene was on her own. I would do everything that I could to provide for her and the kids. It would always be my first financial priority I vowed to myself.
I had not seen my children for some time. I could not spend time with them. I yearned to talk to them and to hold them.
*****
Ellen had been in communication with the corporate lawyers. One came in from California for a special visit.
He spent the day with Ellen and Dennis and other vice presidents. They learned about me. They learned about the company’s official and legal position about such things.
Everyone knew now.
Everyone. The shame of being discovered was realized. The long standing barrier that had held me in check my entire life was gone. In the first week of August, Dennis opened the door to my office and told me that I would meet with my father-in-law at 10:00 AM. I told Dennis that I did not want to meet with him.
I loved Charlene’s father but we had too many confrontations recently. I could not bear any more.
Not only did it break my heart to have to face him, but the conversation always focused on religion. This going to Hell thing was really tearing at my well being. I believed it.
“
Please Dennis, this is a personal matter for me, it makes me feel extremely uncomfortable.
I feel I am being discriminate
d against for religious reasons,” I would tell him.
He watched me write down the details. And
I would send him
yet another memo that afternoon with the same details,
complete with
copies to Human Resources. But Charlene’s father always wanted to meet one last time. It is one of the things that I truly admired
about
him. I may not have agreed with him, but he had the fortitude to never give up.
Dennis told me that I would meet with him in any case.
Charlene’s father and mother arrived, carrying my little girl in their arms. I had not seen her for 3 months. At only 3 years old, she appeared not to recognize me. I had tried calling every week. But
Charlene and I
could never get past the arguments of my sinful state. I never could get permission to see them. Charlene’s mother accused me of not caring about my children because I had not come to see them.
“
Now there’s a true case of irony for you there” said
Squirrel
.
“
I had
have tried
ma
ny times to see the children. Charlene feels it best that I don’t right now. I’m not sure that I blame her
,” I said
.
“Well, if you are going to be that way, then that is what you deserve,” she replied in an argumentative tone.
Charlene’s father tried the scriptural approach for 15 minutes and then finally saw that he wasn’t making any progress. It was the same story as we had discussed many times previous. The fact was that there was really no scriptural passage that dealt specifically with these kinds of problems. It did not matter.
I had become head strong and unyielding on the issue. It would be
like
an attempt to stop breathing
for me
. I just could not stop going down this path.
The difference here, this time, was that my baby was so close and yet so far away. I could not hold her. Finally, came the brutal verbal attacks, the accusations. “You don’t love your children.” “You are on drugs.” “You are smoking.”
I had always found it odd that seemingly the most important commandment turned out to be “Thou shalt not smoke”. I had just been accused of smoking. It was the last; it was the culminating accusation I would face. It was the worst thing that a Latter Day Saint could do. While it is true that I had been smoking, it was something I was reluctant to admit because it was purely stupid; it was a dirty filthy thing, not because it was morally wrong.
I knew that I had done some horrible things. I had betrayed my wife and family. I had held long held secrets that were destroying them. And the very worst volley that could be slung in my face was “You are smoking.” Welcome to the
“
Church of Thou Shalt Not Smoke
”
. It was through social indoctrination that
this was the penultimate in moral corruption
. The church doctrine forbade the activity, but it was low on the totem pole when you were weighing in on sin. In my own family, black sheep were scorned and driven away for a stupid and dirty habit.
Yes, I had been smoking.
While quitting the habit was one of the hardest things I’ve had to do in my life, I’m glad that smoking was the worst of of my ‘drug habit.’
The exchange went on for what seemed hours. My diaries indicate
three
hours. And through it all, I watched my baby cry for the duration. She was held from me for
three
hours crying. I could not hold her. I was
accused that I did not love her and yet I could not hold her.
They finally got fed up and left. I returned to my office and wrote down what had happened. It was shortly after lunch and I left work. I drove home to my little apartment.
Later that week, Charlene called me and had told me that Dennis had talked with my stake president concerning my problems. The church was going to initiate excommunication proceedings. She had been crying and was very upset that I had told everyone at work.
I told her that I had taken Ellen in confidence to help me secure work to help support my family.
Dennis had been warned by Ellen that he had better stay out of my private life but he continued to meddle. I took notes which would provide the facts for another memo to Ellen and Dennis.
That same morning, my Bishop arrived to serve me a summons to attend a high council court the following Sunday. There was some commotion because I would not see him. “This is the place where I work, it is not the place where I worship” I maintained.
Still, a secretary ran the papers back to me as Dennis supervised me signing acknowledgement of receipt. I got out my notebook, scribbled more notes, and composed another set of memos.
Sunday came and went. I spent it in worship and in prayer, inspired by beautiful hymns. I enjoyed the service and felt some peace that afternoon under the sermon by Bruce. One of the members had died of
AIDS
.
A service was held afterwards and it was an emotional event.
AIDS
was still fairly new and the gay community was terrified as one person died every other week or so from the disease. I soon came to understand something that my old world did not know. This was not a disease for the sinful. Women were dying too. Why are we so quick to condemn? If Christ were here with all these people doing their best to worship him. What would he do?
On Monday I received the results from the Church court. “If Christ were at the court, what would he do?” queried
Squirrel
.
“I really don’t know” was my reply.
The letter was addressed to me and was a page and a half long. It contained many admonitions.
My lifestyle did not comply with my sacred covenants. I was not obedient to the Law and order of the Church. I was not obedient to the priesthood leadership. I was cautioned to return home, attend my church meetings, and attend to my wife.
The council went on to say that they had no animosity towards me and that they had not acted in malice toward me. The power of Satan was strong and was influencing my decision to leave everything that was important to my future.
“It is the decision of the Court that you be placed on Probation for the period of
time from now until January
, when the court will be reconvened to review your case.”
I had officially been disfellowshipped from the church. It did hurt. It
burned from deep within.
The leash anchoring me to my faith would soon be cut.
I talked to Dennis and told him of my discomfort with his meddling in my personal religious affairs.
I also sent him and Ellen a memo.
Dennis gave me a couple days off to give me time for reflection.
There was nothing left for reflection.
They were cutting me off. “But
what would Christ do?” queried Squirrel.
“I don’t know S
quirrel” I answered.
I had been living in my small apartment for several months. The separation from Charlene had been one of the most difficult times in my life.
I could not bear living in the same home with her.
I loved her but I could not withstand the constant barrage and close scrutiny every minute of every day I lived there.
Additionally, I was very concerned about our children.
I knew that although they knew we loved them, they would also pick up the tension in the household.
I was keenly aware just how much small children could perceive problems.
Squirrel brought forth acute memories from my own childhood.
I could not saddle my little ones with unexplained tensions, sadness, and an unknown reason for why mommy and daddy were always at odds. I viewed myself as a pervert, according to my beliefs.
I worried about my babies growing up with a freak. I could not, in good conscience allow a pervert to live with my children. They deserved better than that.
A low hanging fog of unhappiness permeated our home. It was thick, cold, and carried an air of loneliness.
The future of the little family was truly bleak. Who could learn happiness in this barren landscape?
As with all of
Squirrel
’s plans created during this period of my life, they would not, they could not be implemented until revealed. I had not the will to fully come out with my thoughts.
But once discovered, my restraints were released, nothing withheld my inhibitions.
Charlene had found a piece of paper I had been using to calculate what I could afford on my own.
I had listed my personal expenses for an apartment, car payment, and other essential details listed only by code.
Electrolysis
to remove my facial hair
was listed as an E.
Opposing this list of expenses were the expenses she recognized for our household.
“What is this?” she demanded.
“Are you planning to move out on us?” she continued as she drove the stake and then turned it.
She knew.
I responded with silence.
I could not answer. My
morose
silence was my response to her one sided argument. It continued for days until I could bear it no longer.
I arose from slumber one Saturday morning and announced that I was leaving.
Charlene begged me to stay, but for
one brief morning
, she released her grip on me with trepidation.
I gathered my things and threw them in the little car and left.
I had scouted out where I wanted to live. That was my destination.
The company that owned the apartment complex had been marketing for months.
They had many unoccupied apartments.
The apartments were very small but they were completely furnished.
It only took an hour to set up the financial agreement and I was in my own place.
I returned north that day to my storage locker.
I extracted the contents of my secret life, returned to my new home, and hung the clothing of my new identity in a real closet.
The trappings of my most secret desires now found a real home and would hide no more.
For a few months I lived here as David.
From here, I would establish a new life.
I could come and go as I pleased as Cindi.
I would find the Metropolitan Community Church.
I would transition at work. And I would meet Alex.