We're in a meadow between our houses because our dogs like to play with each other. We do this almost every day around 4pm.
The minister’s son and I laugh at the dogs' crazy moves, as we usually do, when suddenly the meadow turns dark even as his father’s church steeple penetrates the sky - a shiny white promise in the background.
A large American flag waves over their garage. It generates different feelings these days, but we have never talked about politics. Sometimes it is the opposite, but sometimes avoidance is how civilization stands when the words of civility are not there. Sometimes there are moments where things ignite.
"Why don’t they tell the truth about Hillary Clinton, he asks. Don't you listen to Fox news?"
His tone is challenging.
I shudder. He notices. He points finger at me,"see" he says.
I manufacture innocence. “See what?"
He steps away. I feel his retreat. We are both uncomfortable.
I want this to end.
“Can we agree to disagree?”
I ask him that twice. He doesn’t answer.
“We have to have unity,” I say. If we don’t we won’t survive.”
“We really won’t," I emphasize.
I can't leave things like this.
"Isn’t there a common ground?” I am pleading now.
I mean I live in a rural area and neighbors help each other so I know something about common ground. A good one is both parties are screwed up. Things have to change. That often works. Okay, then about climate change, there are so many roads into this subject. The weather and the garden, the weather and crops, and so on. It's how you go about it. It's giving ground. But, this is different. The meadow has turned dark. He is my friend and we never talked politics.
Then we are interrupted. His dog, Wilson, runs toward a busy road. We run after him because it is a dangerous road. Wilson is now in my fenced yard. He yells at him. I say "he’s just investigating. It’s okay."
My neighbor turns away with Wilson and starts home.
I can't leave it like this!
I call after him, “What does this mean? Are you not going to like me any more because you call me a liberal?
He turns back and walks toward me, "Are you not going to like me because I am a conservative?" he rejoins.
I answer, “of course not. I trust you.” Unexpectedly, he comes up to me and hugs me. and says across generations, "I love you." I respond "I love you, too."
Yet that night I am troubled and sad. It feels as though something changed, although really nothing changed. These days the divide persists and too much discourse is frozen. And yet, in our lived in lives, as we observe in our different ways injustice, climate change, governmental screwups, greed and power grabs, whatever the party, there is a level of understanding where we have commonalities.
Still, I wake up the next morning with tears.
Because the next day is the day of the masks.
I am afraid to see him, to look him in the eyes. The feeling is mutual. If I can’t accept the hug what hope do we have?
But I accepted the hug and thanks to the interruption of Wilson - our common interest, we have our moments of laughter...And now these days when I think about the why of that interchange, I think, that Jimmy started that dialogue because I was a safe place and where else could he have shared what he did?
Still, things have changed and love is eroded from above. The division cuts across neighbors.
This is the day of masks worn and uncovered....of ideologies along party lines. It is a day of fear and anger about the other. It is a time of herd mentality and containment. It is a day of no hugging.
The wearing of the mask has brought violence... In terms of the collective it has brought "the divide" - social consciousness about the welfare of others for some and nihilistic and shaming behavior for others.
Meantime, people keep dying beyond normal rates...maybe this is a day of reckoning. I don't know. What I do know is there is a reason why Jimmy and I usually don't talk about politics. It consumes our goodness as we abdicate our lived-in lives where commonalities exist.