ALSO AT VFR, the commenter Buck wrote yesterday:
I honestly believe that I’m a changed man this morning. I made up my mind. A host of my personal relationship[s] will change today, for good. Many of my casual but regular acquaintances end today. I was secretly harboring a hope, what I saw as a thin and final hope and which was actually animating me as the election approached; that a sufficient remnant of America remained. I’m done with that tiny bit of self-deception.
—– Comments —–
I struggle today with the election results and all of it’s ramifications in my personal life. I am the only child of two die-hard, bleeding heart liberals who, I am convinced, are two of the most stubborn people on the planet.
I was raised on the pabulum of liberal doctrine, even was sacrificed for two years to the Moloch of Desegregation, which resulted in a deep, suicidal depression and severe mistrust of them both. It didn’t matter to them that I was the only white girl in my class, or that I was being bused to an inferior school on the “wrong side of the tracks” eleven miles away, that I was threatened with embarrassment and violence almost everyday, both at school and on the bus, came home crying from school often and developed severe gastritis from all of the stress. What mattered was that black people deserved better schools, and white people were the answer. When I started having having real trouble, they would not even attempt to get me into the excellent Catholic parochial school half a block from our house because my dad did not want me to go to a Catholic school, since we attended an Episcopal church, and were Protestant.
Yes, that is laughable. That was the same Episcopal church that INVITED witches from Planned Parenthood to come and talk to the youth group about birth control. But I digress.
When I complained about school, I was told that I was blaming everyone else for my own failings, and not trying hard enough. So, I stopped complaining and hid in the bathroom instead.
I struggle every day with keeping house because my feminist mother thought housework was beneath her, and used it against me as a form of punishment, but I do it because it is my job. My husband had to teach me how to cook when we first married. Their house is still filthy, floors where the kids play are covered with cat hair and dirt. They eat out of boxes, she believes yellow powdered “lemonade” drink is more natural than pink powdered “lemonade” drink. “Brownies” poured from a bottle is a wonderful invention, and cookies from a tube are homemade if she baked them in her oven. My mother is retired now, but cooking and cleaning interferes with knitting and sudoku. They are both hoarders.
My mother exposed me to astrology, divination with runes and forced me to question my faith, yet still calls herself a Christian. My dad abdicated his role as father and protector, and instead pointedly asked on my seventeenth birthday, why I “never went out with boys?”, implying that he thought I was a lesbian. In reaction to that, I started dating and went out with some really awful guys, who were never “fenced” by my dad. By the sheer grace of God, I didn’t end up a statistic and even met my husband of nineteen years and the love of my life.
My tactless parents have insulted me on the number of children I have (5), have made rude comments about our obvious lack of birth control, have argued with us about education (we home school, go figure), whether dating is appropriate (“your kids are never going to have any fun!”), religion ( I am now a member of a conservative Bible believing church), medicine, food, household cleanliness, and of course, government (“I can NOT believe a woman of your intelligence would vote for a Republican!”). They don’t see how their own hypocritical politics shaped who I am today.
Out of duty, I try to help them. I am their only child and commanded to honor them. They are both in their seventies and not in great health. But I am so very, very bitter. Their selfish, baby-boomer, liberal, Communist politics have ripped the fabric of this country apart, and have turned it into a hostile place for their own child and grandchildren. They have betrayed my kids. It’s Moloch all over again.
Wow, what a story.