Poet and memoirist Patricia Lockwood has reflected on the evolving dynamics of her relationship with her parents and the changing landscape of American Catholicism, more than a decade after the publication of her acclaimed memoir, *Priestdaddy*. The book, which established her reputation, offers a vivid and often humorous portrayal of her family, especially her father, Father Gregory Lockwood. Known for his unconventional traits—a meat-loving, gun-toting, guitar-playing Catholic priest—Gregory Lockwood remains a striking figure in her recent poem, *5-600 Dollars’ Worth of Fine Olive Oil*, where he appears amid a series of unexpected behaviors.

Discussing her parents today, Lockwood acknowledges the inevitable distance that time and ideology have introduced. “Parents age, and they go a little bit into decline and they’re a little bit farther from us in distance, and ideologically, and physically,” she said. She also noted a growing alienation within American families over the past decade, which was less pronounced at the time *Priestdaddy* was written. “In the last 10 years in America, politically … a lot of people have become alienated from their families, their parents, brothers and sisters, relatives,” she explained.

Lockwood highlighted how her father’s idiosyncrasies prefigured broader cultural shifts, describing his behavior as a form of early onset for many phenomena now prevalent. “Every madness of the modern age / My father had first, and not even in miniature,” she writes, reflecting on the surreal resonance between his quirks and contemporary issues.

Although she distanced herself from Catholicism years ago, Lockwood expressed concern over the recent rightward turn of certain American Catholic factions. She described witnessing this shift as “surreal,” criticizing figures like JD Vance for their superficial affinity for Catholic rituals without a deep understanding of doctrine. “He’s like, ‘I don’t even understand the transubstantiation or the trinity, but I really like these robes and that incense!’” she commented, underscoring her perception of this alignment as inauthentic.

Lockwood contrasted the traditional Catholic emphasis on charity with what she sees as an extreme reinterpretation by some recent adherents. “Everyone who’s grown up Catholic is like, ‘I think we’re supposed to give this money to poor people,’ and then the converts are like, ‘This text clearly states that women shouldn’t have driver’s licences,’ ” she said, questioning whether this trend might signal a metaphorical “deathbed conversion” within the faith.

Her own work has grappled with themes of trauma and spirituality, shaped by deeply personal experiences. She cited the death of a young child, her own illness, and her husband’s critical health issues as moments that brought her close to death and a heightened sense of layered realities. Discussing her mystical outlook, Lockwood stated, “You don’t just stop being one. I had strange experiences, ones that couldn’t really be explained, and that continues to be true.”

During periods of illness, Lockwood described entering what she called “rainbow states,” times of prolific writing potentially linked to neurological phenomena like migraine aura but also suggestive of deeper mysteries. Reflecting on the nature of creative inspiration, she mused, “What is actually writing? Is it the wind? Is it the weather? Is it something in the world? You have to abdicate your own will and realise: it is beyond your understanding.”