She believes; he does not.
She attends religious services; he does not.
She is afraid to bring up the topic, because he literally gets in her face and screams like, well, the devil incarnate.
She is driven to tears because she cannot come home to him anymore.
She is quiet and does not try to convert him or anyone else; this is a new and private spiritual journey she is on, after many years of turmoil and stress and anxiety in her life. This new way makes her happy, calms her, gives her life renewed purpose at 51-years old.
He is getting more and more animated, growing nearly violent by throwing things about and slamming things down, all the while shouting about superstition and opium of the masses.
More and more people are what I will call “mean atheists”. They torture those who believe, whether they be in their families or in their communities. They sometimes take to the media to decry religious practice as brainless and backward, and an endangerment to the entire community — indeed, the entire country and world.
The atheists themselves find humor in talking about gods that can conjure stuff up, walk on waves, cure the sick and raise the dead, alarmed that these “fairy” tales are believed by full-grown adults, and when read in their context it is somewhat funny. They mock the gods and the dopes who believe.
Meanwhile, at home, your mean atheist, he roars about the sham of religion, forces his children to file lawsuits, and makes like the “hell” on earth that they presumably do not believe.
She left him last week.
If he had just let me alone. I was happy, she said.
But no. The screaming and the ranting was ongoing.
She said, I was happy. She said, he was happy.
That is, until she walked out the door on the first steps of a new spiritual journey.
She said to him, all I can do is pray for you.
He laughed. It was the only thing he laughed about.