As I type the date, I realize that it’s been 30 years since my father passed away on a similarly cloudy, dreary November day.
That death was a transformative moment in my life, my first significant loss. I was, at that time, in the thick of raising three children who were rapidly approaching the teens while I was in my early forties, facing the changes that midlife and beyond do to the female body as we leave childbearing years behind. I felt lost; my grounding source in my family of origin had gone.
My dad was always the opinionated one, the seeker of knowledge and truth. It shook me up and left me attempting to be the strong one for my mom and my children. I wanted to say the right things and be what I could for others. I remember saying to a fellow teacher that I couldn’t shake the feelings of depression in the weeks after his death, and she said something I would never forget.
“Your Daddy just died. You are grieving. You are allowed to be sad.”
That’s it! I was simply a “little girl” inside a grownup body, with her own family, without a daddy. My tears were always just below the surface. It still breaks my heart to think of myself that way.
My dad was always very opinionated about politics. He usually voted Republican most of the time, but he always played the “Devil’s Advocate,” arguing against almost everything. He once took up a stance for Ralph Nader, a politician who was an environmentalist and concerned with automotive safety. (He ended his career as a salesman for a company that sold bus safety devices.) My father helped me become interested in the government, and we talked about it often, especially during election seasons. He helped me think critically about who was running for office, and his influence often affected my choices. I wish I could talk to him about what’s happening in 2024. I suspect he would have a hard time with the current status quo, but it’s hard to imagine he’d ever vote Democratic. He would be appalled that his party would nominate someone like Donald Trump. But I can only speculate.
Politics is complicated for families. Let’s face it: the current political situation is challenging for friends, neighbors, and all of us. We must learn to live with people who think differently than we do on both sides. This election was ruthless. I don’t have good feelings about it. I don’t like the flags that tell me” “ F**k your feelings.” either. Some of my neighbors are rejoicing, and they hate me for opposing them. I still have feelings, and I cannot deny them.
There has been a shift in me this week. I’ve always tried to see both sides and stay somewhere in the middle. It’s hard for me today. I cannot stay silent. How can I speak out about my feelings, my depression, my fears, and my sadness over the results of this election? Can I write my feelings down about the deconstruction of my faith, my dismay about the rapid uncontrolled rise of addiction, my concern for the environment, and my deep love and appreciation for our immigrant friends? I don’t think there’s a way to stay neutral. I own my feelings.
Today, I remember the loss of my father 30 years ago. I would thank him for his influence and knowledge about these things. I am feeling sad as I sit with the memory. I am allowed to do that. I am sad about the election and our divided country.
Someone said something about “doing good” in our homes, families, and the world. We need to keep doing good whenever and wherever we can., and we will be okay.
This will be my attempt to post things more regularly. I’m not sure where this will lead...
