Love and let go
My Dad was a dyed-in-the-wool Republican. As far as I know he voted only once for a Democrat back in the day when he was involved with a group that helped elect a Democratic governor in Oregon.
Dad and I didn’t see eye to eye on politics. Pops was an old-school conservative who fervently believed in smaller government and lower taxes. While I have never opposed those concepts in theory, I have always felt that in reality, such a viewpoint is far too simplistic and narrow.
Like Dad, I’ve always held strong opinions on politics (and everything else!) but not in a dualistic, two party sense. I’m fiercely independent and generally more of a third party kind of guy. I believe that ‘either-or’ is broken and has been for some time.
I’m not anti government or anti business. I believe both should be held accountable from the influence of money and abuses of power. I believe that freedom is not the absence of laws but the presence of fair laws. I believe that liberty is not synonymous with “doing what I want, whenever I want.” By my definition, freedom means equality, period.
But enough about my opinions - Everyone has them and is entitled to one. Back to my Dad.
Pops thought my political opinions were naïve and told me so when we argued the subject. Several years ago when I was having lunch at a restaurant with my parents in Portland, the topic of illegal immigration came up. In standard fashion, Dad reiterated the conservative ‘rule of law’ talking point. “There’s a right way to immigrate and if you break the law, you’re a criminal,” he would say.
I have a more nuanced opinion. I responded to Pop’s rant with a comment to the effect of “Dad you can build a 100 foot wall and it won’t keep people out of this country. As long as there’s more opportunity here then there, immigrants (legal or otherwise) will find a way around, under, or over that wall. You would do the same thing for your family if you were them. The issue isn’t the legality here, its helping raise the standard of living there.”
My Father responded with the typical “don’t be so naïve” comment and voices were raised in a heated back and forth exchange. Dad ended storming out of the restaurant and going home, leaving my Mother and me sitting at the table stunned and speechless. Incidentally Dad always insisted on picking up the check at meals and this is one of the few times I was stuck with the bill. Well-played Pop!
Dad and I made up on the phone later that afternoon and I quietly resolved to myself that we should just stick to sports and father-son stuff and avoid the topic of politics in the future. We pretty much did, but at times he just couldn’t help himself from yelling at the TV news and his political rants. Whenever he did, I would mostly tune it out, interject a little humor, or change the subject.
But then something changed. Dad started slowing down. As he approached his mid-seventies, he developed a host of health issues. I used to joke that if they had a medical punch card, his next procedure would be free. Facing a declining health and his mortality brought out a kinder and gentler version of my Dad. With Mom’s encouragement Pop started watching less cable news. He still shook his fist occasionally, but his roar became softer and his rants less frequent. He sent fewer political emails and miraculously, he even swore less.
He started praying more and joined a men’s bible study group. He frequently called old friends to check on them. He made new friends and when he was out and about, he always asked others about their lives. Dad gave back in his community and helped start a trust for disadvantaged kids at a local Christian school. He still held strong opinions but instead of retreating in to his own ego, he opened up his heart.
In all transparency, I’m sure most of Dad’s friends and neighbors were like-minded politically and philosophically. It’s natural to hang with those that share your views. But as a lifelong advertising executive, I am sure at some level Dad also knew the dangers of groupthink in an echo chamber. Dad knew deep down, you have to step back from the noise to see clearly. Ultimately it requires global contemplation and local action to really make a difference.
Like anyone my father had his flaws and was far from perfect. But if I learned one absolute thing from my Dad that supersedes any other thing it’s that love matters more. For all of his legendary profanity-laced tirades, when it mattered most, he was able to love and forgive with the best of them. As I wrote about a while back, he even loved and forgave my Grandfather after he left my Grandmother (who was dying of cancer at the time) for another woman. Whether it was the transgressions of his own father, the actions of those that were his adversaries in business, or the opinions of those that disagreed with him, Dad lived by loving and letting go.
Blood runs thick and many learn to love and let go when it comes to their own families. But what we need now more than ever is to love and let go where it comes to those in our community and country that seem completely opposed to our position. That neighbor with the Trump sign in his yard? Yeah, that guy - love him and let go of the need to justify your own opinion. That uber-liberal, socialist college professor? Yeah, her too. That drug-addicted homeless person, the right wing militia people, your racist uncle? Yes. All of them. Love and let go.
Dad and I probably wouldn’t agree much on the current state of political affairs, but there’s at least one issue on which I am certain we would agree. The most important thing isn’t what I think or how I vote. The most important thing is to let go of the need to be right and love my neighbor.