My Mom (!) Says: Impeach and Imprison!

My Mom will be 78 on Tuesday.  She is a stiff-upper-lip Yankee, born and raised in a tiny town in Vermont.  This was the 4-room school she attended (and at which she received a superb education) and graduated from as the top 14 percent of her class of 7:

She married my Dad (USNA ’50) six days after she graduated from college.  They had met in June 1950 at the wedding of her college roommate and his USNA roommate.  My Mom and Dad had been on three dates when he called from his deployment in Naples, Italy in January 1951 and proposed.  They were happily married for 49 years.

My Mom was a Rockefeller Republican for almost all of her life — liberal on social issues (she has ALWAYS been pro-choice) but somewhat conservative on other issues.  She grounded me when I participated in the Moratorium.  She thought Nixon was a crook, but was intimidated by the anti-war movement (although she did shake Hubert Humphrey’s hand at a rally).

My Mom went back to school when I was 12 to get her master’s and doctorate in education and psychology (Manhattanville and Columbia).  She maintained at A average while raising me and my brother and, later, working full-time (which she did because she wanted to) — and while being a terrific wife to my Dad, who could be, um, difficult.  She then taught at a Lutheran elementary school for 30 years and subsequently retired (5 years after my Dad did) and followed my Dad to a barrier island in Texas where he wanted to live.  They built a house with an observation deck for my Dad’s telescope.  She voted for George Bush for Governor because she was still a Republican and that’s what Republicans did.

In December 1999, my parents moved to Rancho Santa Fe, California.  My Mom and Dad had been out to San Diego to visit my brother and sister-in-law at Easter and my Mom had fallen in love with the flowers, the weather, the gorgeous light, the clean beaches and beautiful Pacific — and with the chance to be near her precious granddaughters.  My Dad never said no to my Mom, so off they went.  They arrived two days before her 70th birthday.  I flew out for a surprise party for her on December 11, 1999.

Just over a month later, on January 22, 2000, my darling Dad dropped dead from an aneurysm.  It was a horrible time.  I was in the middle of a dreadful divorce.  My Mom and I were both so sad.

In June 2000, my Mom moved to Washington, D.C. (where I was living) and we bought a house together.  

Thoughout the fall, we watched the debates and my Mom, always an avid newspaper reader, read even more.

In November 2000, my Mom voted for Al Gore, mainly because of stem cell research and because she had decided that GWB was an idiot.  

She became even more convinced of his idiocy — and then of his mendacity — as we watched, with horror, the build-up to the Iraq War.  My Mom has been opposed to the war from the outset.  Then, she still kept her views to herself when speaking with her lifelong friends — many of whom are rich, spoiled Republicans who support President Bush to this day because of his tax cuts.  She still loves her friends, because they have been friends for five decades, but she no longer understands how they could think the way they do.

In September 2004, my Mom took a deep breath and registered as a Democrat and voted for Howard Dean in the primary.  She loves Howard Dean — we had driven to Vermont in the summer of 2003 to meet him at the Capitol in Montpelier, back when you could just walk in and meet him.

Then, she asked me not to mention this to her friends.

Last spring, my Mom registered at Daily Kos.  She reads every day, although she does not comment and has yet to recommend even one of my diaries. 🙁

My Mom went back to Texas for Thanksgiving.  My younger niece was playing in a soccer tournament in Plano and my Dallas relatives (including my Dad’s sister’s son and his wife) had asked Mom to visit for the holiday.  At Thanksgiving dinner, my Dad’s younger sister (who had earlier emailed my Mom to ask her to be an “early” Giuliani supporter) started in about supporting Giuliani.  My Mom, who truly believes that if you have nothing nice to say, you should say nothing at all, glared at her and asked that the subject be dropped in the interest of Thanksgiving.

Tonight, my Mom watched TV with her jaw open.  She looked at me, after watching the news about the CIA torture videos (an issue about which we completely agree, and about which I have previously written) and said, about President Bush: “Why is this man not in prison?”

If she’s there, isn’t the country finally there, too?