My Father is Dead, and Everything is Worse Now

I haven't felt inspired to write. The man who said he'd be "dictator on day one" was declared the winner of the 2024 election, and it's been nothing but chaos since.

There's been no shortage of coverage on events so I will refrain from a recap. But I will say that in December 2024 to February 2025, I wrestled with what to make of family, neighbors, and Americans in general who voted for this lifelong criminal. I have always been an opponent of the two-party system. I understand that many Americans feel forced to choose between two options that don't quite represent them. I can sympathize, I feel the same way. But at a certain point, a candidate's egregious actions should disqualify him. And wherever that point is for any reasonable person, Trump has definitely crossed it already.

All of my friends are left of center, with one exception. And she doesn't vote, so she's of no consequence. I live in a blue county in a swing state. If any of my immediate neighbors voted for Trump, they hid it well. There are a lot of Trump voters in my family. My mom (unsurprisingly), my dad, my mom's parents, and at least one of my aunts. There are certainly even more within my distant family.

On December 26th 2024, I received a call from my grandfather. After some phone tag, I wished him a late merry Christmas. Then he handed the phone to my grandmother. The conversation started out normal. I like to push her buttons so I started with a running joke I've been doing with her. Essentially I'd ask when she was going to move near me and act astonished when she'd tell me she wasn't going to. Suddenly she brought up my mom and how I don't talk to her. She then pointed out that I maintain contact with my dad. My dad is far from perfect (I described him as an asshole during this particular phone call), but up to that point I didn't feel a need to cut ties.

My grandma bluntly asked me why I was "doing this" to my mother. As is the case for many an estranged child, that's a big question. The reason for estrangement can be complex and multi-faceted. When I think about it myself, it's difficult to know where to start. Doubly so when put on the spot like this.

I gave it a shot. "She treated me like a child. She would require me to eat turkey at thanksgiving and wouldn't accommodate-" was all I could get out before I was interrupted.

"You are a child! Your mother put up with your picky eating, do you think it was easy for her? Every morning she'd make you waffles!"

I admit, I can't recall what she said after that or how the rest of the conversation went. We both talked over each other and we were both angry. It didn't go on for very long though, and soon enough she handed the phone back to my grandpa who carried on like nothing had happened. But something did happen. My grandma took a side- my mom's side. I haven't spoken to either of them since and neither one of them has made an effort to talk to me. The cold shoulder treatment has apparently extended to my sister as well for god knows why.

Just a month later I got a package in the mail from my dad. A square, flat cardboard mailer, no doubt containing a vinyl record. My birthday was coming up and he managed to remember it this year. More impressive than that, he planned ahead and got his gift shipped to me ahead of time. I brought it in and set it on the counter where it stayed undisturbed.

My dad voted for Tump. He wasn't part of the cult in the same way my mom is, but he happily voted for him regardless. Even after Trump sent false electors and after Trump's Supreme Court appointees declared the president to be above the law, which were both moments that cemented to my own decision to vote for Harris in 2024. I knew my dad's vote wouldn't have turned Florida blue. But I couldn't shake the feeling that no matter how much worse things got in this country, my dad would proudly continue to stand behind his vote.

My dad tried calling me on my birthday. I didn't have the energy to talk to him, so I didn't pick up either time he called. He called again the day after, similar story. He texted me, "Happy birthday, I guess you're not talking to me."

I responded an hour later, "Thanks, was recovering from a cold for the first few weeks this month and also had my fill of family at Christmas time for a little bit." It's true, after that call with my grandma I really didn't want to hear from anyone I shared DNA with.

Five days later I sent a quote from Ronald Reagan appointee John Coughenour criticizing Trump's ban on birthrigth citizenship. My dad defended the ban by framing it as a tool to begin a conversation around the parameters for birthright citizenship. He used the same defense in a previous conversation we had about abortion. In reality, it seems to me that Republican's are more interested in restricting people's freedoms to the fullest extent they can possibly get away with rather than having a productive conversation. But I digress.

I also sent an article about Tennessee representative and court jester Andy Ogles introducing a motion to amend the constitution to allow for a 3rd Trump term. Would you be surprised to find out that my dad wasn't bothered by this either?

On February 1st, I finally answered a call from my dad. He vented about work and gave me a rundown of the projects he had in development on his property. I always found it difficult to add to these conversations because our lives are so different. We can't understand each others jargon. I at least have plenty of friends to talk to about my ventures. I could count on one hand all the people my dad kept in touch with, and I was one of them. I paced around my house as I listened to him explain the enhancements he's made to a yard I've never seen in person, occasionally throwing in a "mmhmm" or a "sure."

Then he started talking about 12 X 5. I was confused and he could tell. "The Rolling Stones album. You got the package, right?"

My eyes darted to the counter, where it still lay wrapped in the cardboard it was shipped in. "Oh right. Yeah, I got it. Haven't had a chance to open it yet." I lied.

He said my name, in a tone that was equal parts hurt and disappointed. The conversation didn't last much longer than that. 22 days later my uncle called me to tell me that my father died.

I didn't feel sad. Or remorse. At first, the only thing I felt was relieved. Relieved that I would no longer have to make the decision of whether or not to go no contact with him for my own sake. Going down that route with my mom was emotionally painful and I wasn't looking forward to doing it all over again. And suddenly, I didn't have to.

The next thing I felt was an acute awareness of my own mortality. I suspect that this is a normal feeling given the circumstances.

The final emotion my dad's death caused me to feel was annoyance. I was annoyed on behalf of his girlfriend of 20 years. She had to figure out what to do with my dad's expansive outdoor aquarium. She had to face the fact that my dad had about $100 to his name, spending most of his income on hobbies, cigarettes, shrooms, and weed. Lastly, my dad moved the two of them out to a remote area in Florida's panhandle. As a result there was little in the way of help with all of this. A month after the funeral, I took a flight down to help sort through stuff and drain aquariums.

Since then, I've noticed a void in my life. A small one. Whenever I'd see an egregious thing Trump and his administration did, I no longer had someone to send it to to argue about. I no longer hope that he'll have an awakening and realize how wrong he was. His final opinion on the matter will forever be that everything is fine. And truthfully, the hope that he'd come to his senses was always misplaced anyway. It reminds me of my mom.

"I voted for him but I do not agree with what he's doing," said my dad's partner. We've been talking somewhat regularly since my he died. I explained to her that not only was my mom unbothered by the administration's actions, she's actively in favor of them. She was surprised and somewhat repulsed to hear that.

I guess the thing I don't understand is how anyone can be surprised by this presidency. He told us who he is. He says what he wants to do. And here he is, doing it. In some ways I respect my mom more for not pretending that this isn't what she voted for.

My dad's girlfriend said she wanted to see things get changed up. I rolled my eyes. I don't agree with her but she's at least proven that she's capable of seeing Trump as a bad guy.

Months have gone by and the headlines have only gotten worse. I suspect they will continue that way for a while longer before eventually bouncing back. But for now, everything is worse.