Our dad died of bowel cancer when he was 38.And i was around 18 months. Below is a copy of the letter that he wrote and left to me .Its old and crinkled and really hard to read
He seem to figure that God had intended he’d die at the time when he did. He talks about it being part of some mysterious plan that’s being worked out, and so on. And of course he is beseeching me to also put my trust in this plan too, like what he had done .For me to have faith and so on. Warns me about leaning on reasoning of man, (which of course none of us human has any ability to ever escape from doing anyway, because we must in effect lean on the “reasoning of man“, still anyways, when putting trust in the bible being word of God)
I don’t enjoy the thought of going against the will of our dad. I really don’t. And yet ,to be true to myself and to what i feel, i feel see little other option?. I should be honest, with myself, about what i feel is more likely real. Throughout generations passed, religion has been passed on like a phobia . As far as i can tell, there was never any real sign of Gods existence, even although holy books talk as if the sign was always widely visible to bee seen everywhere. Within holy books we read of all kind of supernatural phenomena .Yet now we will never ever see any of it ?
Of course our dad would have felt as if perhaps there was some mysterious plan behind reason why he was someone dying so young. Leaving behind a wife and six children. And specially after what he’d not long experienced . That experience could have seemed supernaturally weird ,i’d guess, to someone who’s mind would be, running hard-out, with trying to figure out answers
Not too long before our dad got the news he had bowel cancer, there was the saga with the drunken fool James Taylor jr coming into power within the exclusive brethren. Our dad had been outspoken against the antics of this drunk. Outspoken against the cult like separation stance that was developing. The man seen here in the photo below, with his left arm draped around another brethren members wife in an unseemly manner for a priest, his hand resting on the women’s breast . Whiskey in the right hand (he drank alcohol until his voice slurred and happily swore and cussed)
The same drunk recorded within this tape recording of a brethren meeting held in Aberdeen Scotland ,busily calling people bums and son of a bitch and/or whatever else (you listen to it for yourselves)
More info of the transcript and goings-on can be read through this link here too http://www.discourses.org.uk/History/TheAberdeenIncident.pdf
But anyway, from what ive been told, by one of my sisters recollection , evidently our dad had been fairly outspoken against the antics of this drunken fool James Taylor jr and so on . Evidently they had had our dad on the front row , in Auckland , he was tasked with giving sermons. But soon enough, there were brethren, who didn’t dare want to continue to stand by some of the things our dad had been prepared to be saying. At the time i would have only been a baby, and yet i even feel like perhaps i can even vaguely recollect the shit storm that went down, myself too. Remember all the stern looks and the brow beaten looks among brethren brothers sitting around in the circle on the front row. Trying to look so concerned and “priestly:” like .I have a feeling that an uncle of ours had even also been busily questioning the way things were headed, as well too.
But anyway, not so long after our dad wrote the letter to me, back in may 1963, he then died of cancer . I can remember certain thing,about our home and our family life, when he would have been still alive (perhaps due to the trauma, of the situation, maybe it then made things stick within my memory, even although i was still only a baby?)
Perhaps you can imagine the kind of thoughts and questions that might have passed through our dads mind at that time?. For instance like, put yourself in the position, where by you’d not long been busily questioning against the path that a cult was headed on, then to next thing soon find out how you had bowel cancer, that was incurable?. How real rough would that be to deal with? . To try and fathom and figure out?
The surgeon attempted to operate and cut bits of his bowel out ,until such time as they were unable to dare to cut away anymore. Dad faded away, and had soon looked like the starved Jews had done, after Hitlers concentration camps.
Sometimes i feel like, perhaps my best chance of making a decent go of life, was kind of done and dusted, the moment that our dad died. The lifestyle i remember, as a kid growing up, had felt like living in a mental asylum . There was anger and violence among my elder siblings,whom were all at least ten years or more older than me. I remember trying to be the peacemaker. Begging for them to stop yelling and bashing each other. Then begging our mum, to please not kick our sister out too ,to disown her as if dead, when she had decided to leave the cult (for reasons i might decide to discuss at another time)
Members of my family, would many years later be diagnosed as being on Asperger’s spectrum. Now i know this, i now feel like i perhaps can begin to make more sense of some things i experienced