I don’t know, I can’t speak for them, but a Missouri mom wrote that her father’s unblinking Trumpism destroyed their relationship.
He was a Navy man, carpenter, guitar player, and “good guy” who liked fast cars. “A hippie in his pot-smoking, hard-rock youth,” a man raised two girls by himself to the best of his ability,” and “a MAGA in his death.”
She weeps, “He was never hateful, until he was. He was always caring, until he wasn’t. He … died a man I didn’t recognize.” She wonders, “What happened?” and knows “it didn’t start with Trump,” but his embrace of MAGA fanaticism changed him. For the worse. She began avoiding him, even though he was dying.
She’s writing about it now, she says, “to warn others.” Meaning me. You. All of us. After you are gone, “Your memory is all you leave,” she says, and your legacy will be “defined by love or hate.” This is wisdom. It’s an impressive column. I read it, and you should, too. You can find it here.