Saying grace

And what's with the Catholicism?

Apparently sociopaths can have a religion. It helps compartmentalize, equalize, sentimentalize. There's the need to posture to the outside world.  Or posing to themselves, asking forgiveness on a regular basis for their past, present and future sins.  Perhaps simply a remembrance of childhood when things were simple and...sweet.

Tommy insisted on saying grace before a mea.  He made a big show of reaching for hands to grasp.  Bowing his head, he raced through a canned grace, "Oh Heavenly Father we thank Thee for the gifts we are about to receive..." blah blah blah.  Maybe he truly was thankful, since he never knew where the next meal might come from.  After everyone said "Amen,"  he shouted,  "And God Bless The Chef!"  The first time he did this, I laughed.  After that, it was embarrassing.  It spoke volumes about his low class background.

"Investment banker, no way!" Eva says about Tommy now.  "Look at his build.  Nothing but a low class Italian construction worker."

And then there were his trips to Mass, as if grace and Mass would undo all the scamming, as if, I am trying Lord, forgive me because I know not what I do, I have this problem.  Or was that show too?  Catholicism was a sacred subject with him.  Apparently, God help you if you ever said anything against the Pope. On the few occasions I verged on Pope politics Bob warned me in his stupid hushed voice, "Don't let Tommy hear you say that," or "Don't ever criticize the Catholic church in front of Tommy."  His voice was so menacing I shrank.

Thing is, both Bob and Tommy really believed they had a moral compass and all the correct morality.  Bob was scandalized when a known, openly accepted by the gringo community, pedophile collected our tickets as we drove into the Polo Club for a benefit. Bob was always criticizing the uncouth behavior of the gringos who had the misfortune of crossing his path.

"How can you know someone like that?" he said scathingly because I was so c'est la vie about it.  I'd say, "That's why gringos come to Mexico, to do whatever they damn please and not get thrown into the slammer."

How can I know someone like you, I now ask myself.  How is it I let you trample my delicate, refined and generous soul, take you into my house, feed you, help you, and let you in contact with my children?   Ah...you were their first scammers....thanks to me, their mother.