Parts Are Parts

My father-in-law was a nice man, a generally good guy. Mostly genial and subdued, he held tightly to his conservative values in a way many of his generation did. Not necessarily keeping himself up-to-date with issues but often just reiterating the same old rhetoric. Democrats love big government, increased national debt and a create big welfare state. It was his right to believe it, I never argued with him.

Obama was voted in the year my oldest son could vote for the first time. My boy was thrilled and couldn’t wait to pop his first chad. My father-in-law, not so much. He died before Obama left office but I’m guessing he probably would be a Trump supporter even now. Unfortunately, mimicking the way he was raised, he called Obama a monkey on a few occasions. I had never heard words like that come out of him before. I was left to explain to our shocked kids how some people choose to live in the past and how the elderly can, at times, lose their filters. They loved their grandfather and his language confused, hurt or maybe just disappointed.

It is hard to keep quiet when a loved one espouses values that dehumanizes people because of their skin color or for any other reason. He was in his 80's when this happened. He was fragile and we all suspected we would be losing him soon. I said nothing.

We did lose his soon after. In his PJ's, in his house in Nevada with his dog, he sat on the side of the bed and died. I am reminded by the Boy Scout that there are many parts of us and sometimes, within those many parts, is a part we don't like so much. We have to choose how we deal with that one part when the other parts are the person we love.

Boogie served his country honorably, tried to be a good father and husband and loved his family. I loved that man even though there was a part I didn't like at all.