God was never mentioned while I was growing up. Except maybe a few times in conjunction with the word "dammit." But never once did my parents tell me what they believed, if anything, or even that there were other beliefs out there in regard to a higher power. Religion and spirituality were just not discussed. It wasn't necessarily taboo in our household. I think my parents really were agnostic, or just didn't give it much thought. Other members of my family are religious. My uncle is a preacher. But I wasn't around them enough to be influenced by them.
I was raised pretty much an only child. I have two half-brothers and a half-sister, all older. My brothers lived with us when I was very young, but they moved out before I could form too many solid memories of them. One sticks out--my brother telling me to "Go to hell." I remember being bothered or hurt by the comment. Hurt by the attack itself, not because I feared hell. I don't think I knew what hell was.
For a short time, while we lived in Vegas, I went to Sunday school. I somehow heard that one of our neighbors was hosting a small gathering in her home and decided that I wanted to check it out. Maybe a friend told me about it. The only thing I recall is the circus peanuts. The lady would hand out circus peanuts to the kids who could recite that week's scripture by memory. She would hand them out on little strips of paper every Sunday. I couldn't recite a single scripture for you now. And I'm not sure I even really knew what Sunday school was all about. I think it was just something to do. And I got candy.
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