“I remember” is an unusual thing for me to say.
When I was seventeen I died.
I lost the memories of my life. Of my family.
What remained was burnt, tattered, unrecognizable as my own life.
What I have are recollections of memories that I do not feel are my own.
I sometimes wonder where I get the sense of caring that I have and where it came from.
Is it my own in combination with a mentor?
My grandfather Larkin was a retired Quaker minister who lived with us. I assume he had some kind of retirement but it must have been very little.
I remember sitting on his lap and he asked what I would like for Christmas. We were a working-class family in Cleveland, Ohio with a father who didn’t think children needed toys.
I responded to my grandfather that I would like a Hot Wheel car. “Is that all," he asked?
Under the tree not only did I get a Hot Wheel but I also got the loop the loop track.
Millions of people recently got healthcare for the first time in their lives. Some men helped them get it. Then some men got angry because they did.
One man in the middle of the night stood up and with a simple “no”, did not allow his political party to commit suicide. Senator John McCain. He prevented other men from denying care to others not like them.
A man stood before a throng of people and told a story how people busy with their lives passed by a fallen and ill man on their street. Only one person stopped to help. A person whom the important believed to be an unworthy welfare cheat.
That unworthy welfare cheat nursed the fallen back to health, restoring his faith in humanity.
Why do we believe we have the right to deny health to others not like us?
For more about our current state of politics read GOP Angst.