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At least you knew what your parents believed. My Mother was a physicist, and my Father was an aero-space engineer, and while both of them had very strong personal beliefs, they believed that the ability to think for oneself was paramount. So, instead of comforting spiritual stories for children, we were regaled with:

"What if we are an atom on God's hand, and God is unknowing of us, and God washes his hands?"

"Are we figments of someone's imagination, does that make that someone God? And if He Doesn't believe in us any more, will we cease to exist?" (This one may be reversed with us as God and God as us)...

"What if we are just multi-dimensional beings, existing on simultaneous time planes of the universe, and the 'spirits' we encounter are just accidental juxtapositions of those planes?"

I can't tell you how many days I went to school all freaked out because my Mother wanted to play Quantum Philosophy with my head. Kinda like "New Math for the Eight-Year-Old Soul". In otherwords, no answers, but lots of base-eight questions in a base-ten world...