the day after...

Awaiting, at my computer screen, election updates from Pennsylvania, Michigan, and Georgia, I am reminded of what it felt like to sit anxiously in a hospital waiting room as loved ones kept it together anticipating word from their attending surgeon. As the emptiness dragged on after opening embraces and prayers, the shared silences that started naturally soon turned awkward. Even oppressive. So, like mist on a cold, country field, random stories of the heart would start to rise from often the most unlikely member of the family. A tenderness would be spoken. Real albeit incongruous laughs would erupt, too breaking down the tension in the room. And, in the Spirit's own mysterious time, what began as brittle became incrementally more supple. A few hours in, some would even fall asleep. Others drummed and paced - especially men used to "fixing" a problem that was now beyond control - while the unofficial mother hen slipped away quietly to bring back baked goods and coffee. Over and over, I saw this rhythm ripple through waiting rooms all across America until the facts on the ground were disclosed, owned, and digested. Then a whole new cycle of uncertainty moving towards trust would show up and capture us as we tentatively worked at finding our new place of balance once again.

When we went to bed last night, at about 2:00 AM, Joe Biden urged patience and trust while Donald Trump threw emotional gasoline upon our worst fears and prejudices. Both candidates late night behavior resembled their dispositions before the election: one was inclusive and calm, the other unhinged and mean-spirited. The Trump camp continued to insist - especially after their loss in Arizona - that votes were being stolen, manufactured in the dead of night, and manipulated. The President said and tweeted as much beginning at 4:00 AM and has not taken a break. The former Vice President chose to remind the nation that there is an orderly process that we've all experienced before that will make all things clear when it is complete. He added that the numbers and possibilities looked good for his side, but noted "it ain't over til it's over!"

This, too, reminds me of the surgical waiting room after the doc has spoken to the family: some become unmoored - they are addicted to drama and need all things to be about them - so their wailing dominates. Others hunker down in quiet discomfort, trying to grasp what the consequences will be short and long term. And most stand in front of the surgeon like a deer in the headlights, hearing some of what has been said, but still fundamentally confused. After he/she leaves, these precious souls turn to one another and cry, "What did she say? What did he mean? Is this good or bad?" I am of the opinion that there's no interrupting this essential dance with uncertainty and grief. It must be incarnated - and only later can we unpack what is real and what is not. Often that became my job in these settings: carefully and with tender balance restating the facts at this time, gathering more information if necessary, and then grounding everyone in more prayer and silence. This was NOT kabuki theater. Real people with profound love were feeling their hearts break open and minds split as the life or death of a mother, father, or child rested in the balance. 

And so that's where we are at 12 noon on the Wednesday after Election Day 2020. We all are grieving. Some are calling attention to themselves in unhealthy but not unexpected ways with the President being the most offensive of the lot. Others are taking a nap or a shower - and eating a little too much cold pizza - as they let reality sink in. And most of the rest of us realize we are not in control. We can practice acceptance and find a bit of serenity in this, or, we can distract ourselves or cause a ruckus and bounce around in our own chaos. We will probably try out both sides of the equation before deciding to breathe, trust, and wait. After the first wave of uncertainty washed over a family, and after a few more hours of quiet conversation and prayer, I would typically bow out. Now it was time for the family to make the new truths their own. I needed to know what I could and could not change - and honor that. And, over the next few hours and days, I also needed to regularly check in so that those in the tumult knew they were not alone.

Honest, hard-working patriots are now counting our votes. ALL of our votes. The Liar-in-Chief can huff and puff all he wants. He can pout, posture, and threaten to subvert our democracy, too. And, for a time, he may suck all the air out of the room. He may also intimidate those who know better. But adrenaline addicts run out of gas and drama junkies eventually get shut down by wiser members of the family. Currently, the facts as reported show that the Biden team holds a modest advantage in both Wisconsin and Michigan with hundreds of thousands of mail-in ballots still to be counted. Team Biden is also trending in Georgia, too. With one million votes still uncounted in Pennsylvania. it seems likely this battle ground state is tipping towards the Trump camp as is North Carolina. Sadly, the more responsible members of this national family have not yet taken the boisterous bully out of the room. Currently he keeps saying he needs to take the election results to the Supreme Court. In our dysfunctional national family, the shrieking and flailing will continue without an intervention. I pray that someone - or someones - will rise to the occasion and act like the adult in the room.

When my sister Beth was dying, fundamentally because for years she had over medicated herself to the point that her kidneys shut down (to say nothing of the agonizing pain she experienced due to the neglect of her caregivers who let deep, ulcerated and open bedsores go untreated and nearly eat her alive) we had to make the call to move her into palliative care. As her doctors gathered around her bedside with the extended family and explained the slow death before us, after we concluded it was most merciful to unplug the ventilator and let hospice manage her pain as she moved into death, her confused and wounded lover asked, "Will she then live and be able to come home." I was astounded. What willful ignorance! What mind-numbing narcissism! The doctors, too looked like they had been slapped with a brick. For a moment they were speechless before adding, "We're going to step outside and let the family talk about your choices." They weren't skirting their responsibilities. Or ducking for cover. They were living the Serenity Prayer and knew we needed to accept what we could not change. With a ton of patience and prayer, we were able to say out loud over and over what was true and eventually come to a consensus to let Beth pass painlessly from this life to life eternal.

When the ventilator was turned off and new pain meds administered, we created a 24 hour visitation schedule where two members of the extended family would sit with Beth so that she would not die alone. It was agonizing - and essential. And then, from out of nowhere, four relatives from well-beyond the immediate family showed up in the middle of the night and started to insist that they knew better than the doctors. "Beth wants to live. We know" they said over and over with dramatic sincerity. Foolishly they chose to see intention in her involuntary twitches. After 36 hours of this new chaos, I had to assert my professional role (when I just wanted to be a brother) and insist that this crew be banned from the hospital and NEVER be consulted concerning Beth's hospice care. Indeed, we had to physically bar them from her private room. It was ugly and unnecessary and all too frequently one more cross to bear. They huffed off hurling insults and making a host of wild accusations and threats. They took to social media as well with vile assertions and lies adding insult to injury. In two days, Beth was finally able to go let go and go home to the Lord in peace. We were now empowered to say good-bye in a calm and quiet way. And plan her memorial service with a modicum of dignity. (Interestingly, after cutting off the drama and noise, none of the offending parties managed to make it to Beth's memorial service.) 

I recall this now, as well as my decades of interaction with grieving families in hospital rooms, because another death is taking place among us. Part hubris, part denial, part bourgeois self-interest, and part sexist,racist, and classicist, too this death is dismantling the romantic and idealistic mis-truths white Americans have savored for 400 years. A deeper truth is being revealed that holds the potential of a healthier country. But, there will be lots of sound and fury signifying nothing before the truth sets us free. It will be chaotic and mean-spirited. If you thought the violence and intimidation of 2000 was sickening, wait till Team Trump brings their neo-storm troopers to a vote recount in Wisconsin. It is going to be wretched before it starts to heal. But that is what needs to die right not. And that death gives us the possibility of forging greater and more authentic solidarity with one another. That is the part of the Serenity Prayer we're facing now: "the courage to change the things we can change and the WISDOM to know the difference."