Postscript: I Was Wrong

So it turns out I was wrong about Trump.  He didn’t try to seize the military and keep the presidency. He didn’t plunge us into civil war. Instead, he spent his last night pardoning a bunch of his political cronies.  On inauguration morning, he got on his plane at Andrews AFB and made his way home. They had music accompanying him as he was boarded:  “YMCA,” by the Village People. “Tiny Dancer,” by Elton John.  And the final phrase of Sinatra’s “I Did it MY Way,” as the plane lifted up into the skies to make its way to Miralago.  Those songs alone should be good for a Stephen Colbert monologue. 

The QAnons are despondent.  Their conspiracy theories didn’t pan out and for the moment they have to face the fact that they live in this world with a new President who is cleaning up the messes of the last guy.

I hate to admit that I had something in common with QAnon.  I thought something bad was going to happen, too—I just wasn’t fervently hoping for it. It takes me back to the days of my childhood when I scoffed at religious neighbors who swore the end of the world would be coming on a designated day, but deep down I feared they might be right.

To tell the truth, I feel a little sorry for the QAnon.  Hear me out:

As his plane took to the skies, a friend started celebrating a little prematurely, I thought. I said he was still President and I would not breathe easy until noon when Biden took the oath. She told me that we all have battered wife syndrome.  Actually, a number of people have been saying they feel like they’ve come out of an abusive situation. 

Maybe that’s why I feel a little sorry for the conspiracy cadre. They’re the people of my childhood and they’re victims of abuse, too.  Now they’re unhappy and confused until they can find something else to fill the void of paranoia. 

I’m sure they’ll find something—imagination is limitless. 

Meanwhile, we have a new administration. Biden isn’t God and his supporters won’t be worshiping him like some of Trump’s supporters did. Maybe we can all put the worship aside and simply work together, which means expressing our disagreements with the hope of resolving them. 

6 thoughts on “Postscript: I Was Wrong

  1. I appreciate your words. I feel so much hope now for our country! , although I’m married to Trump fan and I hear the words, “if you vote for Biden and Harris you are not Christian.” I left my husband’s white republican church five years ago and it took a while but the last 5 months I have found that peace that surpasses understanding, A peace I never found in the church. I would like some church friends someday but I will serve Jesus by loving neighbors and wait for God to lead me to find church if that is what he wants for me. I will never force finding church because I never want to lose this peace! Do you ever miss church? Lonely without it? Just wondering..


    1. Hi Beth. I’m feeling good, too. I’m glad you’re finding some peace. I miss being a part of a supportive community and I love the people i left behind but i dont miss the life of working in church.


  2. I always love to read your postings, as they encourage thought. Like you, I am thankful that our worst possible fears did not come to pass, but I don’t feel confident that it is because he didn’t want them to come to pass. My fear is that he just couldn’t figure out how to actually get it done when push came to shove. My fervent hope now is that we can marginalize him so far that nobody hears his rants and believes his fevered imaginings.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. I read your post… couldnt make a comment, tho. I often thought Trump ruled peoples thoughts like an authoritarian preacher. I also related to how our religious upbringing is often living and we associate our beliefs with the love of family and friends.

      Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s