Dear Sophia,
I love you. I love you more than anything.
This morning was interesting. I went to church. Apart from for the funeral it was the first time in years and years I’ve been to a church. I remember going a few times with my parents when I was little but I can’t remember anything about it except for going in. My parents weren’t very religious as far as I could tell. On Christmas my mum used to make us say a prayer before dinner so maybe she was religious once.
This church was just as cold as the one the other day. I went to the big cathedral in town because I figured there would be lots of people there. There were kind of more people than you’d expect but still nowhere near enough to not make it feel like too big a space. I aimed to get there for about eleven as I had this feeling that that was when it started. I think I must have seen the time on the notice board outside before.
Everyone was already in when I got there. The door was open and a woman was sat at a table just inside. She handed me a leaflet. It didn’t have a photo on the front. I obviously didn’t bring the massive bible with me. I saw some other smaller versions in a pile by the door but I didn’t feel the need to pick one up. I was trying to see the stuff not in the bible. I thought seeing it in action might make it make more sense.
I had a quick look around just in case you were there. I couldn’t imagine you being somewhere so cold but still I thought I should check. I checked every face and the back of every head but I couldn’t see you.
Once I knew you weren’t in there I sat down near the back. The guy was already talking. He said things about children being too exposed to bad influences at a young age. I thought it was kind of funny because it’s not as if the story of Jesus being nailed to a cross isn’t a scary thing for a young kid to know about. Or burning in hell. I guess he meant T.V and films and stuff like that though. It didn’t make much sense to me. I mean I know what he meant but I didn’t get why it was happening. Everyone there agreed with him. Everyone who wasn’t there would probably agree with him too. I don’t know what the point in saying it was.
Then there was the singing. Everyone does this weird kind of over the top singing there. The old women have really piercing voices which make it sound really awkward. It’s weird when you’re not singing to be in a room surrounded by people singing in no particular direction. It didn’t seem particularly important. It made me feel even more left out of whatever it was they were all feeling.
I thought maybe the other day felt kind of low key because it was a funeral but this had the same kind of cold atmosphere and it was just a normal service.
If I really needed help a church wouldn’t feel like a welcoming place at all. The smiles there didn’t seem real. Maybe I was too busy watching everyone and I should have tried harder to just feel whatever it was everyone was feeling.
I just couldn’t connect with any of them. I couldn’t picture you being somewhere like that. You have joy and warmth and this felt cold and sad. I can’t imagine ever going back. I felt so much more relaxed once I was home again. I just want to see you again. That’s all I need.
I love you.
Yours,
Andrew