I visited with my parents today for the first time since the election. I took Lucy over so mom could cuddle with her. They both love it.
We had a nice little lunch, dad shared his new book of memoirs that is in process of being published, and shared some written reports from his school when he was there in 1947, 48, 49. Turns out he was quite the little trouble maker, and not so great with the grades, either. We all had a good laugh about that. Mom smiled a lot when he was telling stories. She didn't talk a lot, and when she did, not much made sense. Parkinson's dementia is a bitch. She was sporting a nice new hair cut, though, and when she said she got it 2 days ago dad corrected her, "That was yesterday!" Five minutes later he chimed in that she was, indeed, correct and it had been 2 days. Mom beamed. So, sometimes her brain is quite sharp. It's perplexing.
We did not talk politics. At all. It won't take much to send me screaming and pulling out my hair. I think perhaps they know this. My husband and I are struggling with our feelings about them, since they voted for der Drumpf. Going over there today felt a bit like sleeping with the enemy. I say this in all seriousness. What good little Germans they are.
I wish I could just take pity on them and love them anyway, but their choice has me grieving at a deep level. Of course I still love them, but I wish their hearts weren't so black. Nothing I can do about it. No point in saying anything at all to them. Every time I read about another school spray painted with swastikas, or a Muslim woman getting her scarf ripped off her head, or our VP Elect who has stated he will roll back marriage equality, well, I just think of my parents and say, "Thanks a lot, assholes."
It's oddly disconcerting to be in the room with them and that big giant elephant lurking in the corner, tapping her toe with impatience. I know a blow up is going to come, I just don't know when. Funny story: the lady who lives in the apartment across the hall from their new place has a Hillary for President sign on her door side table! They are moving to the People's Republic of Davis, one of the most progressive towns in the county. On one trip over to the apartment, dad actually turned the sign over and I promptly righted it. Asshole.
|F A M I L Y|
There are all kinds of memes and cartoons right now about how awkward this Thanksgiving will be for many families. Duh. We're lucky, though, and instead of going to my parent's home, we're going to my husband's family who are a bunch of freakin' Jewish lefties, with a few from NYC visiting, and a gorgeous man from Senegal who has married into the family. And everyone is incredibly lovely: causal, smart, funny. They are an exuberant bunch and dancing contests have been known to break out in the living room. My people!
They are the ones who will cheer me on in Washington, DC come January. I'm not even sure I'm going to tell my parents I'm going. It might just cause mom too much stress. Our trip to Cuba in 2015 had them extremely nervous (guess they thought we'd be murdered in the streets by those filthy communists) and our 2016 trip to Paris soon after the bombings had them climbing the walls (guess they thought we'd be murdered in the streets by those filthy Muslims).
So, to all of you who may have to spend Thanksgiving with the enemy, I'm sorry. Just eat fast and
S C R A M, is all I can say.