Democracy and Drama

 Today America got a new President Elect. It was also 4 days after Election Day. That means for four days the nation held its collective breath. Emotions ran high no matter which candidate you supported. It was also the day my son watched the result of an election he cast his vote in.

My immediate family supports Joe Biden, the President Elect. The dumbstruck despair we experienced four years ago has been replaced by equal amounts of joy and relief. It has not been an easy journey.

It was not easy being a Biden supporter in my world. If there are other Biden supporters in my church, I don’t know who they are. My two best friends, my squad, are both Trump supporters. My extended family on both sides are Trump supporters. I am well acquainted with the sweaty, stomach churning physical reaction to people I care about spouting the “virtues” of Donald Trump. My mouth always stayed quiet, the people pleaser in me eschewing debate. Only at home could my true heart and feelings come out.  

I am not sure when my hatred for Trump came into play. I was disgusted before the election in 2016 by his  treatment of people. As the wife of a disabled man, I watched him make fun of the disabled. As a woman, I heard him admit to using them as sex objects. As an overweight woman I heard him call women like me “pigs.”  As the granddaughter of. POW I heard him equate being a captured soldier to being substandard. As a Christian I saw him autograph Bibles and call himself the Chosen One as he tear gassed people for a. Photo Op with an upside down Bible. He can’t quote a favorite Bible verse, but went on the March for Life.  He claims to support life yet rips children from their parents in a strange land after coming for safety and mercy.  

I have watched the country lose sight of kindness and putting others first. We started acting like a class of detention students without a teacher in the room. It became the norm to complain, to be angry, to tell people what ugliness lives in your heart. 

Then Covid. I did not work for two months, and even though I still got paid, I was afraid, I was worried, I was full of anxiety. I was afraid of my mother getting sick. Of me getting sick. I needed reassurance. I needed people to work together to beat back the beast. I didn’t get that. I got more complaining, people refusing to stop partying, people refusing to wear masks. And it came down from the President.

So now I hope things will change. Today the winds feel like they have shifted and I hope it continues.  I pray the Lord’s will be done and our land begins to heal. 

God bless America. 

Can We Start Again, Please?

I started this blog in 2009. The boy who calls me Mommy was still in elementary school and still called me mommy. Now it is 2020, and he just shut his laptop on his Junior Year in high school. He is, for all intents and purposes, a Senior. He calls me Ma now. 

In two short weeks my baby will be 18. A full fledged adult. Big boy jail old. Register for the draft old. Slipping through my fingers old. 

In the past few years we have experienced life. We have weathered middle school bullying. We lived through two years of high school marching band. Marching band is an animal unto itself. It shows you how strong and resilient your child really is. You learn pride in the team, especially when you scan through a football field of feathered hats to find YOUR feathered hat. And you know that it’s really a Shako.  You love one cog in the wheel, but you also love all the other parts. You go to football games. By choice. 

This year we also started driving. For some strange reason, the bulk of the driving time has been with me. This taught me two things:  one, I could never, ever be a driving instructor by trade. I Just couldn’t take it. Two, you never see danger in the world like you do when your kid is driving. You wonder how many pool noodles are needed to cover all surfaces of your Jeep. And you pray. A lot. 

My baby also has a girlfriend. I like her. And not just because she lives hours away in a different state. She is creative, cute, and comes from a good family. I learned from her Mom that they have a plan to settle in Cincinnati so they will be equidistant from each family home. This doesn’t bother me so much right now because they have only been in each other’s physical presence twice now and we have years of school ahead.

Boy wants to be a pediatrician. He left Marching Band for the Career Tech Center so as to begin his education now. He loves it and excels at it. I sit in disbelief that I may one day be a Doctor’s Mom!  That sweet little boy in his car seat with a Matchbox car in each hand will be an adult that changes the world. 

I want my baby back. I promise I wouldn’t change that much. Maybe I’d make a better eater out of him. But mostly I would just love to live those days over again. To watch the discovery. To read the books. To change out the clothes that no longer fit. I just want a replay button. I want to start over.