A Good Conversation

It was a post by my sister, inviting me to view pictures of the inauguration that I missed. I appreciated the gesture and the opportunity to enjoy the photographs. I thanked her in reply and mentioned I'd seen that Biden had gone to Mass that morning to start off his day. "Humbling." I wrote.

Then it started. 

First, it was a cousin replying. "Such a good Catholic, he supports late-term abortions." And then a sibling joined in with a comment about "Biden's promotion of murder."

I bristled. 

The comments brought me back to my youth, to a time when a conservative group from Canada drew my parents in back in the late 1960s. The stance of the group had them questioning everything that was normal or fun until life became black and white, and judgments and criticism became the norm. 

It's what caused my mom to removed us from school. It broke my parents' marriage and demanded we choose sides. We have never really recovered from this influence as can be seen whenever we as a family have a stressful situation. We cannot sit and talk about hard things. Tempers flare, words are said, spirits are harmed.

It brought back years when I lived among certain individuals who judged and criticized and found fault with just about everyone. All. The. Time.

The post ended when another sibling asked a simple question. A question that invited a conversation. A question seeking to know.

I would like to be allowed to enjoy what I hold dear. I've worked hard to establish my values and clear my vision from past bad experiences. I'd like to have a post where I can simply be joyful without the demonizing taking over.

Is that too much to ask?