I will be the first to admit that I am in a state of anxiety. You may ask what is bothering me and I will be more than happy to reveal the source of my concerns. I learned long ago that bottling up my feelings only led to sleepless nights and feeling so tightly wound that I wanted to scream. When I finally had enough of containing my feelings like a grand stoic I was actually greeted with kindness and understanding that changed my world views.
For much of my life I have been concerned with the welfare of my children, my students and my mother. My sweet Mama is gone and I comfort myself in knowing that I did everything possible to keep her well and safe. My students are mostly grown and doing well, but I still worry about those who sometimes seem to be languishing, so I keep in touch and offer my support. My children are adults with families of their own but a mother never ceases to think about her offspring from the day that they are born. My girls are on my mind day in and day out. I have a sixth sense that alerts me when they are feeling troubled or overwhelmed. I stay in touch with them constantly knowing that life has a way of dealing unexpected blows. I am ever ready to walk with them through any troubles that arise.
These days my real worries center on my father-in-law who appears to be a vibrant and incredibly healthy ninety five year old, but who is slowly but surely becoming more and more fragile. I see the lapses in his memory, the inability to step up to a curb, his medical issues. He has outlived everyone other than his son, grandchildren and great grandchildren. His is living the last chapter of his life and I suppose that I am dreading the inevitability of what lies ahead. I worry more about possibilities than he and my husband do. I know that the day may come when we will no longer be able to care for him in our home but he is unwilling to speak of what we should do if that happens. Being a planner, I would like to be prepared but I suppose that instead we will just fly by the seat of our pants as things progress.
I also think constantly about the state of the United States. I had hoped that by now the specter of Donald Trump would be a thing of the past. It appalls me that he is still whining and ranting about the unfairness of his loss to Joe Biden in 2020. That should be water under the bridge but instead it has grown into a dangerous storm of falsehoods and grievances. I fret that Trump will do grave damage to our beautiful democratic republic whether he wins or loses. He is setting the stage for rancor either way and I suspect that his horrific influence will hurt the smooth transition of power for years to come. My grandchildren will still be cleaning up the messes he has made long after I am no longer alive.
I feel like the boy who saw the emperor parading in his altogether and questioned why nobody else seemed to notice. There are times when I feel like a victim of gaslighting. Suddenly common sense seems to be in short supply. I wonder what it is that attracts so many bright and wonderful people to a conman like Trump. How can they be so fooled by his nonsensical bluster? Why would anyone think that an amoral man like him was sent by God? What am I missing? Why do they attack me for my views as though I am the one who is intent on destroying our way of life? Why do they lecture me as if I am incapable of reason when I have done constant research that has informed my political views? Why do they consider me to be naive when they are the ones hiding their heads in the sand?
I see the red thread that connects my thoughts just as Dr. Monsen once taught his students of sociology. I am first and foremost all about people and the idea of honoring them without automatically classifying them one way or another. I saw the potential and greatness in my very diverse students when I took the time to understand their backgrounds and their cultures. I realized the importance of allowing my daughters to spread their wings and become the independent women that they are. I realized that my mother’s mental illness was something that happened to her, not who she was. Her true essence came in the times when she was healthy. I saw her and all people with a clarity that has allowed me to separate the goodness from the flaws.
When I listen to Donald Trump I hear a tortured and weak man who is always trying to impress, always begging for attention and love. He is so broken that he is incapable of caring for anyone but himself. He lost his way long ago. As a kind person I may feel sorry for him, but I also understand that such a damaged man should not be trusted with responsibility for the wellbeing of the United States of America. His sole purpose in running is to convince himself and those who follow him that he is okay. He is too old, too self centered and too dangerous for the job.
So, yes, I worry constantly about what lies ahead. I see the future and I fear that the wrong person will be given the power to steer us into safety. This is a more consequential election than any in my lifetime and I worry that far too many are not see the naked truth. Donald J. Trump is unfit to lead us. Let him find adoration somewhere else.
All It Takes Is A Little Love 