Mother’s Day hurts for me. To understand, just look at Great Britain.
Huh? Be patient. I’ll get there.
Yesterday, Liberals rioted in England. After Conservatives won Britain’s elections, Leftists flooded the streets, demanding the victorious Tories be thrown out. A war memorial was defaced. Trash was everywhere. Outraged at budget cuts which were saving Britain’s future, angry mobs screamed bloody murder. How dare their countrymen continue austerity! Just rob the rich instead!
This, folks, is why I left the Left. Hate. Rage. Growing up in leftist circles, I realized everyone around me hated some group—a lot. They hated rich people. They hated Christians. Oil companies. White people. The military. On and on it went, and I realized the only thing unifying those around me was a constant, shared rage.
My Mom: The Good Liberal
Meanwhile, my liberal Mom was one of the finest people alive. I’m not exaggerating—everyone loved her. As did I. Slaving away long hours in nursing homes, Mom cared for the most vulnerable at stages when helplessness begat indignity. These weren’t babies. They were those once mighty who had succumbed to age. And Mom was there for them, always patient, always intelligent (which meant a lot to those wanting smart conversation), always hard-working, always kind. Mom was there for them.
Mom was also there for me. It wasn’t easy, as I was ultra-hyper, and today, I’d be drugged into submission with a series of tranquilizer darts. “Keep it up, men! He’s weakening!” When Mom took well-deserved naps, I’d pretend to as well—until she fell asleep. Then I’d burst outside and play. The only time Mom slowed me down was when expanding my vocabulary. How? Mom and I would play Scrabble at the kitchen table, a bowl of chocolate covered nut clusters between us. Sometimes there would be bacon. Scrabble, to be sure, was no time for health food.
But as sometimes happens in close families, a child chooses another path. Me? I became a Christian Conservative. A Republican. The enemy. Before long, everything changed, as the camaraderie—both with Mom and the whole family—disappeared. From then forward, anything important to me had to be silenced in Mom’s presence. Oh, don’t judge her—don’t even dare. The same can happen in Christian families or any other, as divergent beliefs from one’s children are just too painful.
I think it’s petty when people abandon their parents’ values, only to demand, “Love me as I am!” In Mom’s eyes, I became anti-poor, anti-environment, anti-everything good. Forever a curse to the helpless, I was opposite of all she had been those long years caring for the elderly. For this wonderful woman of the highest character, I represented pain and frustration whenever I was myself.
So, over the last 15 years of Mom’s life, we basically had no relationship. Did I still admire her? With all my heart. But when the cost to be around someone is your silence—stifling everything that gives you purpose—no intimacy is left. There’s deep pain knowing your silence is the entry fee to “relationship.”
A few years ago, I lost Mom to cancer, but for me it was like losing someone I no longer knew.
England and Anger
When thinking of “angry Liberals,” Conservatives envision mobs, like in England. They envision Wisconsin during a Scott Walker campaign. They envision Ferguson, New York, Baltimore...anything but my Mom.
But Conservatives don’t understand the anger driving all Liberalism, resenting anyone or anything that can’t be controlled. Even good Liberals—and there are many—want to control the rich, the environment, the church, businesses…control life. Conservatives dabble in control, but Liberals live there, whether controlling to help the helpless (good Liberals), or for selfish gain (Clintons). Either way, as that control is taken away, their frustration mounts.
Burning within Liberals is a desire to grab the world and make it be what they feel it should be—no matter the cost. If ever I shared my views, Mom’s gentle demeanor would shift to shortness and changing subjects. Our closeness was gone. She couldn’t help it. Even with the kindest of Liberals, any break in control brings anger—enough anger to sever intimacy with a son.
Again, don’t blame my Mom. She was no leader; just a good person trusting what she’d been taught. No, blame Liberalism. Blame this cult of control; of managing humanity. Blame this mindset that demands choice-less education, empowering Liberal parents to control how other parent’s kids are taught. Liberalism moves people’s kids around, moves their money around, tells them what they can drive, who they must hire, what they must pay, what energy they can use, more, more, more.
The cost? That’s up to us. Either we silence ourselves, or the Left’s rage breaks forth in shocking ways. Mobs march in England. Storefronts shatter in Baltimore. In Wisconsin, balanced budgets are greeted with mass hatred, heaps of trash, and death threats against a Governor’s family. Ever notice how only Conservatives discuss secession? Not wanting to hurt anyone, we just want to get away. Somehow, somewhere, we just want to be ourselves.
As cities burn, Conservatives resent the choice between their own silence and the Left’s rage. But for me, the price cuts deeper. When I watch London, I see the end of Mother’s Day. I see a young boy playing Scrabble with his Mom, not knowing their laughter over grabbing the same chocolate cluster will one day become the distance of strangers. Silence? Anger? These aren’t choices for a mom and son. These are the choices of Liberalism.
Somewhere in England, another family is split by social unrest…and the Left laughs. Indeed, Marx’s god was eternal conflict within Dialectical Materialism; an endless war of ideas with no lasting comfort. Think about that when watching the next riot. Look closely, and see what Liberalism does to families, communities, and America. Liberalism leaves little room for innocence—and less for Mother’s Day.
My friends, guard Mother’s Day against the forces which threaten it. Celebrate the bond between Mom and Child! Avoiding control, don’t demand Mom approve of what you’ve become, and don’t demand your children agree with every view. That control carries an awful price—trust me on this. The rage you see boiling over in London simmers lightly in those you hold dear, should control take hold.
On this day—and hopefully, every day—be what the Left wants none of us to be. Be a family.
Huh? Be patient. I’ll get there.
Yesterday, Liberals rioted in England. After Conservatives won Britain’s elections, Leftists flooded the streets, demanding the victorious Tories be thrown out. A war memorial was defaced. Trash was everywhere. Outraged at budget cuts which were saving Britain’s future, angry mobs screamed bloody murder. How dare their countrymen continue austerity! Just rob the rich instead!
This, folks, is why I left the Left. Hate. Rage. Growing up in leftist circles, I realized everyone around me hated some group—a lot. They hated rich people. They hated Christians. Oil companies. White people. The military. On and on it went, and I realized the only thing unifying those around me was a constant, shared rage.
My Mom: The Good Liberal
Meanwhile, my liberal Mom was one of the finest people alive. I’m not exaggerating—everyone loved her. As did I. Slaving away long hours in nursing homes, Mom cared for the most vulnerable at stages when helplessness begat indignity. These weren’t babies. They were those once mighty who had succumbed to age. And Mom was there for them, always patient, always intelligent (which meant a lot to those wanting smart conversation), always hard-working, always kind. Mom was there for them.
Mom was also there for me. It wasn’t easy, as I was ultra-hyper, and today, I’d be drugged into submission with a series of tranquilizer darts. “Keep it up, men! He’s weakening!” When Mom took well-deserved naps, I’d pretend to as well—until she fell asleep. Then I’d burst outside and play. The only time Mom slowed me down was when expanding my vocabulary. How? Mom and I would play Scrabble at the kitchen table, a bowl of chocolate covered nut clusters between us. Sometimes there would be bacon. Scrabble, to be sure, was no time for health food.
But as sometimes happens in close families, a child chooses another path. Me? I became a Christian Conservative. A Republican. The enemy. Before long, everything changed, as the camaraderie—both with Mom and the whole family—disappeared. From then forward, anything important to me had to be silenced in Mom’s presence. Oh, don’t judge her—don’t even dare. The same can happen in Christian families or any other, as divergent beliefs from one’s children are just too painful.
I think it’s petty when people abandon their parents’ values, only to demand, “Love me as I am!” In Mom’s eyes, I became anti-poor, anti-environment, anti-everything good. Forever a curse to the helpless, I was opposite of all she had been those long years caring for the elderly. For this wonderful woman of the highest character, I represented pain and frustration whenever I was myself.
So, over the last 15 years of Mom’s life, we basically had no relationship. Did I still admire her? With all my heart. But when the cost to be around someone is your silence—stifling everything that gives you purpose—no intimacy is left. There’s deep pain knowing your silence is the entry fee to “relationship.”
A few years ago, I lost Mom to cancer, but for me it was like losing someone I no longer knew.
England and Anger
When thinking of “angry Liberals,” Conservatives envision mobs, like in England. They envision Wisconsin during a Scott Walker campaign. They envision Ferguson, New York, Baltimore...anything but my Mom.
But Conservatives don’t understand the anger driving all Liberalism, resenting anyone or anything that can’t be controlled. Even good Liberals—and there are many—want to control the rich, the environment, the church, businesses…control life. Conservatives dabble in control, but Liberals live there, whether controlling to help the helpless (good Liberals), or for selfish gain (Clintons). Either way, as that control is taken away, their frustration mounts.
Burning within Liberals is a desire to grab the world and make it be what they feel it should be—no matter the cost. If ever I shared my views, Mom’s gentle demeanor would shift to shortness and changing subjects. Our closeness was gone. She couldn’t help it. Even with the kindest of Liberals, any break in control brings anger—enough anger to sever intimacy with a son.
Again, don’t blame my Mom. She was no leader; just a good person trusting what she’d been taught. No, blame Liberalism. Blame this cult of control; of managing humanity. Blame this mindset that demands choice-less education, empowering Liberal parents to control how other parent’s kids are taught. Liberalism moves people’s kids around, moves their money around, tells them what they can drive, who they must hire, what they must pay, what energy they can use, more, more, more.
The cost? That’s up to us. Either we silence ourselves, or the Left’s rage breaks forth in shocking ways. Mobs march in England. Storefronts shatter in Baltimore. In Wisconsin, balanced budgets are greeted with mass hatred, heaps of trash, and death threats against a Governor’s family. Ever notice how only Conservatives discuss secession? Not wanting to hurt anyone, we just want to get away. Somehow, somewhere, we just want to be ourselves.
As cities burn, Conservatives resent the choice between their own silence and the Left’s rage. But for me, the price cuts deeper. When I watch London, I see the end of Mother’s Day. I see a young boy playing Scrabble with his Mom, not knowing their laughter over grabbing the same chocolate cluster will one day become the distance of strangers. Silence? Anger? These aren’t choices for a mom and son. These are the choices of Liberalism.
Somewhere in England, another family is split by social unrest…and the Left laughs. Indeed, Marx’s god was eternal conflict within Dialectical Materialism; an endless war of ideas with no lasting comfort. Think about that when watching the next riot. Look closely, and see what Liberalism does to families, communities, and America. Liberalism leaves little room for innocence—and less for Mother’s Day.
My friends, guard Mother’s Day against the forces which threaten it. Celebrate the bond between Mom and Child! Avoiding control, don’t demand Mom approve of what you’ve become, and don’t demand your children agree with every view. That control carries an awful price—trust me on this. The rage you see boiling over in London simmers lightly in those you hold dear, should control take hold.
On this day—and hopefully, every day—be what the Left wants none of us to be. Be a family.
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