Death Doula...

 

“…yeah, a death doula. I’m meeting her at one near the station.”

…

“Death. Doula.”

…

“DOU.LA. You know what a doula is right? For pregnant women. This is like that but for people in hospice. Super interesting.”

…

“No, I hadn’t heard of it before either. When she called, I had to do some research to see if it was a real thing.”

 …

“Yeah, she called me. Thought it would make an interesting story, I guess. I have to admit I’m looking forward to doing a little lighter fare than my normal stuff. I’m sure someone at the station passed my number on to her. They all know I’m ready for a break.”

…

“No break. BREAK. I swear the connection is so bad through here. Let me call you back tonight.”

…

People were starting to stare, which she was sort of used to, to be honest. She had been a reporter for the past 10 years. People tended to treat her as a celebrity because they saw her on their TVs. A minor celebrity, to be sure, but still, a celebrity.

That was unless they treated her like they knew her. Watching the evening news while eating dinner made a lot of people feel like they were actually friends.

She preferred when they treated her like a minor celebrity to be perfectly frank. Because the people who acted like they knew her were imperfectly frank. They felt no shame letting her know that her hair was wrong, the color she was wearing was wrong, her outfits were wrong. On and on and on.

But now they were staring because she had shouted death doula at least 5 times. Her sister kept hearing meth dealer and couldn’t understand why she would be going to interview a meth dealer. She swore she was going to replace her phone, or at least change her coverage plan soon.

She was really excited about this interview. She had never heard of a death doula and thought most of their viewers would be the same. What a lovely service to offer people though. They walked their clients through the transition. That was what she had found on the web, they used terms like client instead of patient and transition instead of dying. Though they would use dying if that’s what their client preferred.

They also helped the family or friends who were left behind. All of the steps that you don’t realize you have to go through once someone you love dies. The very practical parts, getting a death certificate, who do you have to notify, how do you notify them, how do you plan a funeral. All of those things, but also, they’d provide counselling on the grieving process. Sometimes that would just mean sitting with people, but sometimes more.

She was very much interested in hearing her story. And the stories of the people she had worked with. She wished she had known there was a such a thing when her parents had passed. She had been overwhelmed by the whole process and it had taken her so much longer to get the estates closed out and everything handled than she thought it would.

She thought, not for the first time, that maybe it was time to transition into doing just these sorts of stories. Just human-interest pieces. No more travelling to war zones to report from the latest bombardment. No more being the go-to reporter on the spot when a natural disaster hit. No more stories that made her sister think she was on her way to interview a drug kingpin like that was a normal thing to do. She’d met enough dictators and demagogues to last her a lifetime. She was ready for the dog show circuit.

But that was a backwards career path. You started on human-interest and moved up to the wars. Even the doula herself had been a little shocked at how eager she had been to meet her and get her story. What a fucked-up world we live in. It wasn’t the first time she’d thought that either.

She walked into the coffee shop they had agreed to meet to start the interview process. She’d get the background information and story before getting a camera crew to film another interview and some b roll footage to weave into the story. She already had a few ideas on shots but wanted to have this preliminary interview in the bag before starting. Just in case the story took a different turn.

She set up at a secluded table in the back and got out her notebook. She looked down at the list of questions she wanted to ask and when she looked back up her subject was sitting across from her.

“Oh, you surprised me, I didn’t see you come in.” She gave her her best smile and held a hand out to shake, “I’m Rebecca Rogers, nice to meet you.”

The woman across from her reached out and shook her hand leaving behind her card. Okay, smooth but weird.

She looked down at the card wondering what the business card of a death doula would look like, already forming the picture in her head, crisp white or ivory, heavy card stock, and it was, an ace of spades.

Rebecca looked at the card then looked at the woman. As the woman stood and shot her, she thought, “Oh death DEALER. Well fuck..”

And Now We Are Dead...

Okay, maybe not. 

Yesterday after I posted that little fiction piece a friend commented on it, and what she thought might resolve the issue. Which made me laugh because it was similar to a conversation that I had had with my father-in-law about his numbers problem.

If all we are is energy. Electrical impulses between cells. Brain waves dictating experiences. If that's what we are then why would we assume that the electrical impulses contained in this particular vessel would hang together once the body has ended its life cycle?

Wouldn't the, for lack of a better word, soul just reenter the pool of energy that's out there (waves vaguely) and then be regathered for the next round of whatever was being animated?

If energy can neither be created or destroyed but only changed from one form to another then isn't that what reincarnation really is? 

See, Brent's dad grew up in the same religion that I did, basically, a few slight tweaks, but as close as you can get without it being the same church. So he spent time after leaving the church trying to figure out the universe as well. He was 20 years ahead of me on his journey, but same sort of search.  

When you grow up with an explanation for everything and a feeling, at least for awhile, that the explanation makes sense, if you decide it's wrong you spend a good chunk of time looking for a replacement theory. And a lot of us who leave one religion end up in another or in a "spiritual practice" because that's what we are used to, and that's what we are looking for. A grand theory that explains it all. 

So when I first brought up the idea of reincarnation, or to be more accurate Jack noticed a book I was reading that was about reincarnation, he brought up the numbers issue. Not just to be a know it all but because he'd thought about it too. Then I hit him with my pool of souls theory and he told me he'd think about it and get back to me. 

My guess is Ann told him to drop it because he never did. 

Jack was a lawyer and you all know me so you know that debate didn't bother us. Ann grew up with an authoritarian, narcissistic parent so debate for her was not pleasant and she felt it was fighting instead of impassioned discussion. Brent was raised by Ann so you can see how the first few years of our marriage took some negotiating when I was just getting warmed up in an argument he was leaving the room and not engaging. I wanted resolution, he wanted peace.  

But back to dying...

I still toss ideas around about the what ifs. It's a lot of my fiction. Because nobody really knows. Some people are positive they know, but that is just what they believe. And belief isn't always truth. But for me the wondering is always entertaining. And because nobody does know it's always something to ponder for everyone. 

What I believe is that when we die we die. Even if the energy that animates this particular body moves into something else, the we, the person we are right now, that's done. We get this one life as this person to do with it what we will. And I don't think that it's likely we move on with this consciousness. I've talked about it before, it doesn't bother me. I have no memory or fear of before I was born so why should I worry about after I die? 

But that doesn't mean I won't still write a thousand more what if stories. 

Who knows if I stumble across one that resonates with people maybe I'll buy that island and start that cult after all...

Next, Please...

"And then he asked to speak to my manager."

"He did not!"

"He did. He said he had been waiting too long and the line wasn't moving fast enough so he wanted to speak to someone to resolve his issues."

"Did you get him someone to speak to?"

"I called Angie."

"Oh no!"

"Oh yes! She was thrilled that someone volunteered."

"Did he realize what was going to happen?"

"Nope, he was pretty smug about it all. Did a so long suckers sort of wave at everyone else waiting."

"Did anyone else decide to join him?"

"No, I think most of them got that it wasn't a good choice."

"Amazing." 

"But I do understand the frustration. I mean the backlog is significant. Unless they figure something out we are never catching up."

"They did that really great vaccination drive. And there was the healthy foods push."

"Sure, and that worked for some of the influx, but...I'm telling you the faster we send them nudges and information on how to make it better they are figuring out how to make it much worse on their own."

"That's true. Do you think we could ever get, like a stoppage in production?"

"You mean like a complete shutdown of the incoming pipeline?" 

"Yeah."

"No, I mean, we have done what we can to increase product lifespan, but they keep figuring out new ways to decrease it in massive amounts."

"It doesn't help that the replacement metric has slowed so much as well."

"That's where it all went south, in my opinion. Not that it slowed, but that Acquisitions and Creations took their eyes off the ball and didn't see it happening. When the replacement metrics halved, I mean...it doesn't take a math genius to realize that we were adding reusables faster than we were reusing them and we didn't need to keep adding new product to the line."

"Well I mean overall there is still more new product entering than old leaving right?"

"Sure, if you look at overall usage. We are still hitting around two new for everyone one retired. But we have stockpiles from the stretches where we had an abundance leave. So if all you were doing was averaging it out, it would seem okay. But they didn't ever check the waiting rooms. They just said, oh our averages are good, keep adding more! No! Don't keep adding more. We are overstocked! And it's not like we can send them back down a level. Well, unless they complain and want to talk to the manager."

"There's always room to start over."

"Eh, well, not really. They've also destroyed so many wild places that there aren't as many lower levels anymore. Not as many animals, not as many insects. Still a lot of bacteria. So I guess there's always that option. But as far as mid level restarts? Not nearly the amount."

"Has Quantity Control mentioned doing a cull?"

"I've heard whispers. Maybe that's why he was so anxious. Maybe he was too close to a door and overheard the same thing. Figured he better try to jump the line before they decided to clear a few billion or so of them out. So now he's with Angie cycling through the bacterium hierarchy. Who knows? Maybe it was a good risk after all."

"What would happen to them all if that's what happens?"

"I don't know...sweep them all into a black hole and pretend not to notice? Quantity Control is a whole other level. Who knows how their reasoning works. Okay, breaks over. Time to get back to the desk. Over 117 Billion served, granted some of them repeatedly, let's see how many we can clear today."

---------------------

My father-in-law used to use this argument as to why reincarnation doesn't make sense. There have been over 100 billion people alive on earth (estimated) and currently there are just over 7 billion. So what happens to all of the rest? How does it even out? Where do they wait until it's their time to be reincarnated? And do they start at the lowest level of lifeform, or at least the lowest we think? Because then that's worse. There are like a quintillion bugs in the world right now. How do they get reincarnated up the life force chain without overwhelming the numbers? 

I think somebody needs to speak to the manager and sort this out!

End Of No Weigh May...

Finally stepped on the scale this morning after No Weigh May. 

I gained weight. 

Which wasn't unexpected. 

I started taking creatine a couple weeks ago. It's supposed to help with muscle development and strength. It's been recommended to me over and over again and I've always avoided it because one of the side effects is weight gain. Not the whole muscle weighs more than fat, but weight gain at the start of taking it. 

The reason is it triggers your muscles to hold on to more water. To stay really hydrated. Your whole body works better if you are well hydrated.

I finally decided that the 5 pounds they warn you about was a fine trade off for the muscle health I'm trying to regain. Very logical.

Until I stepped on the scale this morning and saw that yep, I gained weight. Three pounds since the end of April. Well fuck. Don't like seeing that number at all. Yuck. 

Yeah, I went from logical, this is going to make me gain weight but make my muscles healthier. To oh no, this is not good just by stepping on the scale. 

Nothing changed about my weight in May. I bopped around the same area I have been for a while. I can tell because of where my weight was this morning with the added creatine bump. But my attitude about it changed. 

I thought about it with curiosity. I wonder what I weigh today? But curiosity was the only emotion attached to it. A little bit of hamster wheel spinning about wanting to know but not the negative or positive this is a good number this is a bad number feeling. 

So I'm not going to go back to weighing in every day. When the curiosity gets really high I'll do it, otherwise I'm going to do my best to ignore it. 

Which is what I had hoped I would get out of NWM. A letting go moment. I'm eating well. Healthy for the most part. But not denying myself the things I enjoy either. I'm working out 5 days a week. Cardio for 5, weights for 2, core for one. It's a good balance. In July I'll retest and see where I am as far as running that 5k. I'll probably also change to weights 3 days. But I'm trying to make sure that I don't over do it and wreck my elbow after doing so well on easing into things again. 

So NWM will morph into sometimes weigh but not every day. 

Kind of like Dry July last year morphed into maybe I'll drink again someday, but I don't miss it so maybe not.

So here is your reminder to try letting go of the things that you don't feel are serving you. It might be hard, or you might find out it's really pretty easy.  

You don't even have to wait for a rhyming month to give it a try. 

OH! Or...Give it a try July could fit anything!

Voting...

Years ago I read a book about the ethics of voting. About what the correct ethical approach to voting really is. And his takeaway was that not everyone should vote. 

Thomas Jefferson wrote often about the importance of a well informed electorate and how that's the best defense against tyranny. Well informed. 

Another book I read just a few years ago talked about how every democracy in history has ended in authoritarianism. Simple beliefs are really appealing. And nothing is more simple than being told what to do, how to feel, what to think. 

All of these things together inform the way I vote. 

I make sure I'm well informed. It can be and is often extremely frustrating and I will say "I'm not going to (fill in the blank) anymore." That blank could be watch the news or listen to the news. Read articles. Watch debates. Keep up with politics. Read environmental studies. Read medical studies. It can be overwhelming. Not just because there is so much of it, but because so much of it is bullshit.

Our media does not do a good job of providing GOOD information. They just hit you with a firehose of stuff. Does this look engaging? Then that's what we lead with! But they don't worry about accuracy much anymore. They worry about looking biased and needing to provide both sides of issues so nobody calls them names. Even when there aren't two balanced sides. There isn't an equal amount of science saying climate change isn't happening, for instance, but you'd never guess that with the way it's reported.

And feelings are not facts. Just because a large group of people feel a certain way, that's not factual. And it's working against the well informed citizenry when you report those feelings as if they are as important as facts.

But because I do believe in ethical voting even if I say I'm not going to watch or pay attention or whatever I still do. Because I need to really know what it is I'm voting on when the time comes. 

And sometimes that means I don't vote on an issue. 

If I don't know enough, and can't find enough information I don't vote. 

If I really believe that there isn't a best choice, or a least worst choice, I don't vote. 

If there is a least worst choice I vote for that one. 

Which you hear people who think they are riding some sort of moral high say about things like the presidential race. They don't want to vote for the lesser of two evils. (you can see my face right now)

First off, as I've written about before, if you say this I know you are not informed. You aren't a serious person. You are, in fact, ignorant. And I know that pisses people off and makes them call me names like condescending and a stupid bitch. But, that's fine, there is a difference between the two candidates right now. And you even said so in your 'less evil' comparison. 

If the choice is between more evil and less evil you need to choose less evil. Always. 

And if you think there isn't much difference between Trump and Biden you need to change the channel you're watching and get exposed to a few other points of view. 

Or just, you know, listen to the two men speak.Actually look at the things that Biden has accomplished in his presidency. Or read what Trump has planned if he's re-elected. They have it online. It's Christian Nationalism sliding into authoritarianism. Which I get, from the reading I mentioned and from watching people online, is actually attractive to a lot of people. Daddy tell us what to do is the basis for most religions right? It's easier to be told what to do than to have to weigh the pros and cons yourself. And if they can somehow make you believe that them telling you what to do is the real freedom? Well...

A well informed electorate is important. 

Understand what and who you are voting for or don't vote. Better to abstain than make it worse. Which I know is a hard thing to swallow. We think of voting as something you have to do, and we bemoan the fact that so many people don't. And I wish more people would take the time to get informed and vote, but only if they do that first half. Get informed. Don't vote if you are going to make it worse. And you only know if you are going to make it worse or better by being informed.

As far as our upcoming presidential election there shouldn't even be a worry about who will win. We should be looking at a landslide the likes of which we've never seen. But it won't go that way. There are people who will vote for Trump over Biden because they somehow think it's the better choice. There are people who will vote for a third party because they think they are better off making a statement instead of being responsible for a choice. There are a whole lot of people who won't vote at all. 

But for me, ethically, the choice is clear. Any vote not for Biden is a vote for an end to our democracy. It's a vote to slide into authoritarianism. You don't have to take my word for it, you can go read it in their own plans. We should not be looking at the potential for another Trump presidency and yet, here we are. 

But we can stop it. 

We can look at each issue that is important and ask the simple question who makes this better Trump or Biden? And here is the last piece of that ethical voting question, not just better for me, but better for the world at large. For our society. Like another round of tax cuts from Trump might be better for me personally, but it wouldn't be better for the United States. And I think that's the only one that is even close. Every other question, even if Biden hasn't done exactly what I think he should have, I know that Trump would be worse. 

It's not even close.

The ethical way to vote is to weigh the issues not just from a personal stand, but a societal stand. What is the best possible choice? Or the least worst choice if you don't think either one is a best choice. First do no harm. Then do less harm. Then if you can't see a path for either stay home. 

I Am...

That's the Picture of the Day prompt. 

Originally I was going to post a picture of a chair with the comment I am...I said. Age check for my friends. 

But then I was talking to Brent about missing our glamour shots on hair days because I wasn't doing Selfie Saturday and we aren't going to as many sporting events right now. So I changed my musical reference and took a picture of us instead. 

BUT THEN... I saw Chantelle's post (she's the one I get the prompts from) and hers was tied to an assignment she got in high school. An instructor gave them a blank sheet of paper and told them to finish the sentence "I am..." without using their name, age or descriptions of themselves physically. She said at 16 it was really hard, and now at 43 it was even harder. But she did it. Sort of. She changed the rules a little on what she included, which you know I appreciate a rule bender, but she described who she is. 

So I thought, oh, I like that. But holy cow that would make for a long tag on a photo. So instead you get this. 

I am...

Denise Leann Mastenbrook née Clifton. I've been a Mastenbrook for over twice as long as I was a Clifton and I rarely ever think of myself as a Clifton anymore. But there are still people in the world who will refer to me as Denise Clifton. So that is still part of who I am.

I am 5'5.5" tall. That extra .5 inches has always been important. Not just because it makes it 555 which is just cooler than 55 but it made me taller than my sister. If you have a sister you get this. 

I am probably somewhere between 165 and 170 pounds. It was no weigh May and I didn't weigh myself this morning but I'm pretty sure it's in that range. I am also really uncomfortable telling you that because it's such a large number. But it is what I am right now. 

I am trying really hard to not equate that number with good or bad. I can run (slowly around 4.5 mph) for 30 minutes straight now which I couldn't do last year this time. I have increased my weights to using between 15 and 25 pounds now depending on the exercise so that's on its way back after my elbow procedure so I'm starting to refirm everything up and get my biceps line back to popping. As far as I know my blood work is all still good. I'll find that out in a couple of months when I get my annual physical near my birthday. So I am trying to make sure I focus on that and not that number.

Speaking of birthdays...I am 55 years and 9 months old. I think it's a shame that after a certain age we stop doing the quarters measurements for age. Like I'm 55 and 3/4. That excited looking forward to the next year stops happening and we start rounding down. I don't. I look great for almost 56, I look lousy for 45. 

I am vain. 

Because I am vain, I dye my hair a brilliant shade of red that make me super happy to see. I think it looks good with my pale skin and it covers up the fact that my hair isn't cooperating and turning all gray. It's just mixing in enough to make my brown look flat. So red it is. Someday I hope it's all that really shiny gorgeous silver I have in spots.

I am a wife and a mother. But those things have never really defined me. Like some people are really good at being a spouse. Like professional levels of spousing. I think I'm a good partner to Brent, I'm supportive, I've made it possible for him to do a lot of things that he wouldn't have been able to if he had been a single dad, but I'm not a TV show wife either. Same with being a mother. I think I've been a good mom for Katie, but as she once described me I was disinterestedly interested in her life. I wanted to know what she was doing, how she was doing, but I wasn't her best friend, I wasn't involved in the teenage drama to a granular level. I screwed up a LOT of things raising her but I also did a lot pretty darn well. So yeah, I am a wife and mother, but I'm not sure if that really helps to describe me. 

I'm bisexual. Adding that in for Pride Month. It doesn't really mean a lot because I am also monogamous. But who I am with now doesn't define who I find attractive. And it took a lot of years for me to claim that name. I knew it, Brent knew it, Katie knew it, but I sort of felt like if there was no struggle there was no parade, and since I've been married to a man for almost 37 years there was no struggle. I glide through life with people assuming I'm heterosexual so I don't get a lot of grief. I'm trying to make a bigger point of saying, no that's not who I am, so that people understand that this new found fear over the LGBTQIA2+ community is nonsense. 

I am politically outspoken. Liberal to my core. 

I am broken in a lot of ways but I'm also patched back up pretty well. You know if you break a bone the part where it heals is actually the strongest part right? That extra layer that builds around it protects it. That's sort of how I view myself. When I was younger there were a lot of parts that were broken, but now they are healed up and even if I might have a bit of a limp sometimes, I'm really fucking strong. 

I am a writer. Fiction and nonfiction. I love to create worlds and share them and also share how I see the world we all live in. 

I am also always learning and growing and changing. And that's one of my favorite things about myself. 

I am a lot more than just this, but I'm also a fan of women's soccer and the USWNT is playing right now so I am off to watch the game. 

That's some of who I am, so...

Who are you? 

True North...

After the verdict came down last night my feed was FULL of people posting about it. And because it's my feed it was all variations of "Finally!" or "Yay!" or just jokes. Lots and lots of jokes.

Brent and I talked about it at dinner and he said he wasn't celebrating anything because it didn't mean anything just yet. I told him that I understood where he was coming from but that we needed to take the moments that showed he is not above the law, that he does have to face consequences, and celebrate those. But then go right back to making sure he loses the election. Because that's the part that matters. 

So while I was enjoying the moment a friend of mine posted a split screen with Biden and Trump that said the choice is really clear. With Criminal written on Trump's picture and Not a Criminal on Biden's. The first comment under it was that the labels were switched. I rolled my eyes, shook my head and snarked. "Oh was Biden just convicted of 34 felonies? You would think the news would have covered that." his reply was that "He's never convicted." I answered that there might be a reason for that. THEN at that moment I paid attention to the name of the person I was snarking at...oh shit. It was her father. 

Oops. 

As a rule I don't engage with my friend's family members. I am the only liberal in my generation. My siblings are all varying degrees of conservative. Brent's cousins are conservative. They know if they comment on my feed that they will be met with push back, usually by me, but often by friends. But I do remind people that these are my family members so watch how you speak to them. Argue, push back, but don't be rude. Now those of you who are on Facebook with me are thinking, I don't think I've seen your family post...that's because they all pretty much have me hidden. Bah, bah, black sheep, and all that...

But for me, because I know that you don't get to choose your family's politics I don't engage. I don't argue with them. Unless they argue first. If they comment on one of my comments I will step up. I used to argue religion with a friend's son quite frequently. I don't think he changed his mind, but she did so that's one more soul on my unsaved list. (Kidding, I don't actually have a list)

I was thinking about this again this morning, trying to decide if I should delete my snark, and started thinking about my parents.

It might sound odd to say, but I got my political beliefs from my father. Not my party. Not my feelings around conservatism or liberalism, but politics in general. When Reagan put Bork up for the Supreme Court my father, a staunch conservative, was not amused. It wasn't because of Bork's extreme conservative views, my dad would have been okay with that. It was because of Nixon. Bork stepped up and took over when Nixon's AG said he wouldn't fire the special prosecutor. Bork said, Sure thing! My father thought it was wrong. Deeply wrong. So Bork was unfit for the court in his opinion. 

That was my father. Politically he might align with someone but if morally he did not then he had nothing for them. That's what I mean by my politics align with my father's. I don't vote straight party line tickets. I don't vote without at least trying to get an idea of who the person is. I believe in ethical voting. The belief that you should vote in a way that does the least harm. Right now that means I pretty much do vote straight Democratic party, because I believe right now the Republican party will do the most harm.

My father was an elder in our church. That's basically like the board of directors for a corporation. These were the men (always men) who would guide the church. When my sister was a teenager and was in her full moment of addiction, my father resigned his post. He said he did not have his own house in order and so could not in good faith claim to have any say in how God's house was run. I remember this being such a big moment for me personally in my feelings about my father, and my church.

Because it was a smaller church, we all knew who was trouble and who wasn't. My sister wasn't the only rebellious teen. So I expected a mass resignation after my dad. And it did not come. The elder whose son sold drugs to my sister stayed. Later the elder whose son tried to rape me dared to summon me to talk about my rebelliousness. 

My father stood up and said, I am not upholding my part of the deal and so I resign. The rest of them did not. 

Because my father's moral compass was set to true north. 

I fully believe that it didn't have anything to do with faith, or a bible verse, or a religious conviction, it was just who my dad was. Yes, he was religious, but no, I don't think he needed that to do the right thing. He just did the right thing. 

I remember when I was very little, like maybe 4 or 5 we lived in a townhouse complex and my sister, my middle brother and I were playing outside. There was a group of kids that did something, stole toys or pushed someone around, I can't remember for sure, I think it was stole toys. Well my father chased them down and made them come back to where we were, then stood all of us in a circle to tell our sides of what happened. Like 7 kids and my dad. He made everyone talk and then resolved the issue. I remember seeing those other kids and how scared they were, and then how surprised they were when nobody yelled (my parents NEVER yelled), nobody got hit, they just got talked to about how to be better. And as far as I remember they were better. Like everyone ended up friends. 

That was my dad. 

My mother used to say he was slow to anger but once you got him there he didn't let go. I like to think that he was that way because he was really measuring things. Is this worth it? Is this a reason to get mad or is this something I can solve? And is this someone who did a bad thing or is this someone who is bad? The former got a pass, a moment to change, the later, he was just done with you. 

My mother had a flashier temper. She was quick to anger, but also quick to forgive. I used to joke that I got both pieces, I am quick to anger and I never forgive. It's more a joke, especially now, but it was pretty true when I was younger. I was a live wire and you better be careful getting too close. 

My mother was also deeply religious, in fact we found out when Dad died that he hadn't been baptized into our church until their wedding day. You knew it was my mother who made it a prerequisite for the marriage. My dad might have loved god but he LOVED mom.

She was a Republican until the day she died. 

But she didn't vote for Trump. She sure as hell didn't vote for Hillary but she couldn't bring herself to vote Trump. He was a terrible human in her eyes. And Gary Johnson gave her the off ramp she needed. 

I know who she voted for because we talked about it. We talked politics often, even though it was incredibly frustrating. I'm sure for both of us. Being the youngest, being a woman, being raised by the same people as her other children, she could never understand where she had gone wrong. But I don't think she did. (obviously) I think she and Dad instilled a set of beliefs in me. A set of characteristics on judging other people. And I took those and looked at what I believed, and what I knew to be true in my heart and mind and went a different direction. 

She also told me that she would vote for me if I ran for office. I told her I never could because I wouldn't sign off every speech with God Bless the USA. And she told me if I did I would be the first politician to pretend to believe in god. I laughed, and she told me that at least I would do what was right. 

She had faith in me to do what was right even if I didn't believe in her religious reasons for why. 

I didn't need them. I had her and I had Dad. They set my moral compass at true north.