We have been talking about Toxicity. I have even admitted that I was not hopeful for his (my father’s) conversation. Something that we need to talk about is part 3. But it is different in a way that is not only about my father. It is however about anyone in our lives.

Got your attention yet?

I am a firm believer in that you can never change someone’s beliefs, opinions, or let alone anything that is part of them. They and only they can do that.

I said to a friend I don’t think my father would have voted for Trump. Simply because my father has a set of “Morals” for the lack of a better word that he does not change for anyone or any reason. At the core, Trump violated his “Moral compass”. I need to say that there was a time my father stood up for those that were downtrodden. He admired JFK and did not vote for him but did admire him. He supported Veterans and all that they gave on so many fronts throughout the world. We used to talk about history together when he was “There” (I hate PTSD and what it has done to both of us). In our call, he has lost that compass of his and voted for Trump and supports him. I was not ready for that. I remember talking with a very close friend about that never happening for him. That his compass could never shift that way. I was wrong…

But that is not what I am writing about today. Right now so many countries are getting ready to vote on leaders. This is the part about Toxicity. I have always loved the idea that if you do not sing along with Bohemian Rapsody even if you cannot sing well, we might have an issue. Why? Well, that is very simple it is just one of those songs that people of like minds can enjoy. Here is something I want you to think about with that in mind. I don’t care who you vote for just fucking VOTE. But think on this for a moment can you call yourself my friend if you support someone who is willing to take away my rights? Rights that you will still be allowed to have while I cannot. What is the difference between you and me? Why am I not so loved by you that you could do that to me? What if I did that to you? What if I demanded that you could not eat at the same places as I do? What if I said you cannot have the same education as I do? Where would we be as friends if I did not take a stand for you with my compass in hand? Now, what if you were my child? What if I supported someone that wants or does take away your rights? What does that say about me as a person…

As a voter when you cast your ballot for someone are you hurting your friends or loved ones? Will your choice lead to others being harmed? If you answer yes to one or all of those we are not friends. You don’t love me or view me as an equal. Think about how Toxic voting for the wrong type of person can be. When your rights are above someone you call a friend or a loved one they are neither to you and you are not being honest with yourself or them. I could expand upon this lesson of life but I want you to look at yourself when you vote next or support others.

I now look at my father in a different light and that is not very favorable. He has once again lost more of the shine of who I once thought was a good person. That hurts on a level that I was not ready for. I even wrote in my statement to the Royal Commission that “My father is a good man” knowing what I know now I cannot say that with even a small bit of hope. Believe me, the more you erode a person’s hope in you the more they will distance themselves from you. Right now I cannot find a reason to call him back. What do I have to talk about with him? Does he not see his choices are harming me? Does he not understand that the removal of rights of others is just more segregation that he once fought against? It is a confusing paradox that leads to a dichotomy of understanding and compassion vs the constant knowledge that I am no longer as important as I once was. Growing up my sisters used to say that they had two fathers one before the Vietnam war and one after the war. At the time this was said I did not fully comprehend the true scope of the meaning. Only now that I am faced with this different person do I have some idea of what they must half felt. But then I look and question, did I ever really know this man?

Am I toxic to him?

Is my father now a right-wing supremacist? It is not that far of a leap. Would he have supported those who attacked the capital building? Is my father losing his mind? Questions are raised in the dark corners of my mind now. Who was/is this man that I once called my hero and who is he now. My heart and soul are crushed to know that I am not worth him fighting for. Maybe in the end it is better not to find the flaws of your heroes. I have said in the past to be careful how much you dig you might not like the monster you find. You see it has all changed, I could have lived with him not calling me and thinking I did not exist to him. Now I exist but I am not “that” important to him. I paid for a month of calls in hopes that we would both start talking and rebuilding a bridge. But I now see that bridge can never be rebuilt. It breaks my heart.