Reflections on Trump election

Since the election I have been thinking a lot about my parents and really want to talk to them.

Dad has been gone ten years and mom will be gone four years on the 13th.

I know the conversation will be one sided; I can talk to them, and know their voices have been stilled for eternity, but I dread the looks on their faces.

I can see my father looking sideways at me in disgust. And my mother, ever the dignified one, looking away, searching her mind for some way toward forgiveness when I have to explain how Trump became our president.

I think of all the principles my parents instilled and all the things they taught and embodied in both word and deed and can't help but imagine them sitting across from me with disappointed looks from them.

After all they sacrificed, how would I explain to them that a dawn of equality was crushed by an iron curtain of ignorance and hate.

Dad never knew of Obama as president and mom loved Hillary. But I can see my parents in my mind's eye, in their kitchen chairs, muted by their graves now, looking at me as I try to explain why.

— Jim Carroll



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