I’ve read a great deal about paganism and the general behavior of its practitioners. However, after many years, it just occurred to me that my father was a pagan. “The original pagans were followers of an ancient religion that worshiped several gods (polytheistic). Today, pagan is used to describe someone who doesn’t go to synagogue, church, or mosque. It could be that they worship several gods at once, or they have no interest in a god at all. Religious people sometimes use pagan as a put-down to describe the unreligious as godless and uncivilized.” VOCABULARY.COM
I’m satisfied to describe my late father as a pagan because he never prayed to God, never went to church, never read a bible, and, as far as I know, was completely irreligious. I had never contemplated his behavior seriously until after his passing. When he finally died, he was about 96 years old. He was no longer alive to have religious disputes with me. Then, I remembered brief mental movie episodes of his history occasionally. Unconsciously filmed in my mind, with life’s continuously rolling camera. I recall the day we were together at The Apple Valley Market. I had just finished paying for a few grocery items when a well-known friend of mine walked in. I introduced them both to each other. My friend told my father, “Did you know that Jesus is coming soon? He is even at the door and, at any time, can appear in heaven’s clouds.” My father remained silent and just listened to my friend’s gospel grinding. “The only thing delaying His return is probably you,” my friend continued. “In mercy, He is waiting for your repentance.” “Well, if that is true, then I plan to stop Him completely,” my father interjected. “Stop him?” my friend unbelievably exclaimed. “Yes,” my father concluded. “I plan to stop Him because I don’t want any of those things to happen.”
My father was a divorcee. He first married a woman who had borne six children by a previous lover. His mother (my paternal grandmother) advised him against such a union, but he did not notice her. “My son, hear the instruction of your father, And do not forsake the law of your mother, For they will be a graceful ornament on your head,
And chains about your neck.” Proverbs 1: 8-9 (NKJV). The marriage was concluded and consummated, but it didn’t last. His first wife bore him no children. She was continually in contact with the father of her six offspring, and eventually, they were reconciled. My father’s problem in his first marriage was that he rarely worked. Although he was a skilled Goldsmith, he couldn’t hold a job. Consequently, none of his romantic relationships lasted because a woman yearns for security, not only emotional but also financial.
No one knows the number of offspring that my father sired. I don’t think he knew either. Because he was a rolling stone. The fact that he worked on a ship as a sailor for some time was a major contributing factor to this kind of lifestyle. He would continually have impermanent romantic encounters that were only transitory. Then, he would move on, leaving the results of his brief, passionate, and intense liaisons for other people to manage. My own birth and upbringing are a testimony to that gruesome reality. I was born in Saint Ann, Jamaica. In the home of my maternal grandparents. My paternal grandmother took me home to Port Antonio about six months later. She and her husband were responsible for molding my character during my formative years. Several years later, when my paternal grandmother worked in England, I was transferred to Spanish Town to live with my grand aunt. Occasionally, I would travel by bus to Higgin Town in the Parish of Saint Ann. I went there to spend time with my maternal grandparents and build meaningful relationships with my aunts, uncles, and cousins.
After moving to England at the age of 12, I had the opportunity to visit my father’s abode. Where he lived with his second wife. But it was only for one or two weekends. Maybe they couldn’t possibly tolerate me for a longer time. I was only there to collect some furniture they had gifted to my paternal grandmother at my home. His wife had a very long list of complaints and grievances. Which she systematically downloaded onto my grandmother. Who responded by scolding and lecturing my father. He, in turn, squinted at his wife in a vain attempt to minimize the rapid current of her expressions of profound displeasure. He wore too many shirts in rapid succession. He refused to help her with the domestic chores. He smoked and drank too much. He was always going out at night and never returned home until the wee hours of the morning. His wife energetically and repeatedly accused my grandmother of spoiling my father.
(TO BE CONTINUED)
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