My mother is a protestant (foursquare) and my father is a catholic. But it never seemed to matter. I remember during my primary education that every Sunday morning I wake up to my mother's knock on my bedroom door with the usual question: "which church do you want to go? Your dad's or mine?"
My mother retained her religion even after agreeing to marry my father in his church. At first I thought of it as something pretty normal. But later, I found my self surrounded with people who only go to one church. Those whose parents have different religion before marriage adopted the religion of the other partner after marriage.
My parents' views on religion are two extremes. My mother always prays. If she fails to go to church, she prays at home. Sometimes, she thinks God intervenes in some of the things that are happening and get quite emotional about it.
My father, although he claims to have a religion, he rarely prays and he only goes to church when my mother tells him to. He always thought of involving God or religion in anything as lame. As a result, I started questioning religion at a very young age.
I have always been keen about anything that involves religion or God. It got to a point that during my secondary education, I became an atheist. Although I did not know at which time that one who does not believe or denies the existence in/of God is branded as an atheist. As far as I can remember, it started after a class discussion about the Spanish era. Also at which time, my family was going into rough times. It was probably one of the scariest and ugliest moments of my life. And everything laid...