Sandra Reicks

Grief

 

Image by Shutterstock.

Image by Shutterstock.

My mind has been trying to understand how my heart still hurts so badly when I think about my father, who passed away seven years ago. As time has moved on, the grief bursts have been less frequent. But they haven’t ended. As I found out on Easter Sunday.

I was trying to tell my daughter that I appreciated her technological wizardry for converting an old VHS tape to a DVD format. It was from the ancient era of 2001. A “Lefse Documentary,” starring my mother.

Mom was in her glory. She was in her large farmhouse kitchen and instructing plenty of eager learners in the art of making lefse, a very thin potato bread enjoyed by Norwegians and others. It was a moment called for documentary making, and I planted the camcorder solidly on my right shoulder.

Mom passed away last summer, at 79, from cancer. My siblings, their families and mine were gathering for Easter, and I thought it would be a treat to see the “Lefse Documentary.”

Because Mom had the starring role, I was prepared to see her. I remembered her enthusiasm bubbling over that day, the way she explained everything with a big smile, and then later in the day her ever-so-pleasant suggestion that perhaps it was time for me to put the camera down and get to work.

What I didn’t remember was that Dad made a cameo appearance in this 2001 flick. He came in from outside and hung up his hat and coat in the porch, like I had seen him do a thousand times. We were joking that since Dad was one of the few there who was 100 percent Norwegian, he had earned the right to give orders. He entered the kitchen and in his booming and faux stern voice played along by ordering, “Snap to!” Which was followed by a hearty chuckle. Classic Dad. With all the ladies swarming in the kitchen, it didn’t take him long to retire to his recliner in the living room.

Dad would pass away seven years later from kidney failure and congestive heart failure.

As I was thanking my daughter for getting the format converted so it could be watched later in the day with my siblings, I confided that I didn’t remember Dad being in it.

And then the unexpected grief burst. Wailing, I told her that I missed my Dad. He wasn’t just my Dad, he was my mentor. “I’ve tried to be a good person like he was,” and “He was always so happy.” For the most part, I’m a person who uses measured words. No-one was more surprised than me by the words that flowed from my mouth. Words that weren’t planned, that came from somewhere other than my brain.

There’s an unraveling that happens when you lose someone you love. Something constant and reassuring in your life gives way to a shakiness and something lost.

When I was a little girl, I would make my way down the steep staircase on school mornings and peer around the corner to the kitchen. The ceiling-length fluorescent light blinded me, but I would look for Dad who would be in his chair at the end of the table. I crawled up into his lap. Content. We didn’t talk. He just held me and let me wake up. It didn’t take long before my eyes adjusted, and I was ready to hop down and eat breakfast.

The one who gives you the foundation of feeling safe is the one you owe much. And the one you miss much.

Cheryl Strayed, in “Wild: From Lost to Found on the Pacific Crest Trail,” speaks of grief as a wilderness through which she had to find her own way. She hikes the mountainous trail for about 100 days. Mostly alone. Trying to work out her mother’s death from cancer at a young age. At the beginning of her journey in Southern California, she tricks her fears into subsiding by repeating to herself, “Who is tougher than me?” By the time her summer-long hike gets her to Oregon, mantras aren’t needed. She senses that, “You’re safe in this world.”

The world is uncontrollable and wild. The only thing we can navigate, with the grace of God, is our own life. And it’s enough. The good decisions. The bad decisions. Lessons learned from both. Accepting it all, feeling stronger and safer, and having the courage to live our truth.

Dad was 81 when he passed away. He lived a good and long life. As did Mom. That piece of it does help. In some ways I feel guilty for this big grief of mine for parents who reached old age, while others are taken when they’re far too young. But grief doesn’t care about age.

There’s a passage from Corinthians that’s many times used for weddings, but I reflect on it during times of loss. “It bears all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never fails.”

I’ve come to understand that as long as love doesn’t end, grief won’t completely end either. And that kind of love, in this world we’re navigating, is a good thing.

Gridlock begins in the voting booth

Voters lament political gridlock–while they’re encircling the oval for straight party voting.

Straight party voting is, in itself, a form of gridlock. No consideration is given to each candidate on the ballot. Minds are made up with one darkened oval for the party. And when there’s gridlock in the voting booth, it seems disingenuous to bemoan a lack of compromise at the legislature.

It’s a common practice in Iowa. Iowawatch.org, using statistics from the Secretary of State’s office, reported that about a third of Iowans voted a straight party ticket in the 2014 election. But it’s not a common practice nationwide. According to the National Conference of State Legislatures, Iowa is in the company of just ten other states still allowing straight party voting: Alabama, Indiana, Kentucky, Michigan, Oklahoma, Pennsylvania, South Carolina, Texas, Utah and West Virginia. Voting for the party, without selecting each candidate, is trending downward.

Image by Shutterstock.

Image by Shutterstock

Opponents of selecting the oval for straight party voting say it reinforces unhealthy partisanship and also causes non-partisan offices on the ballot to be left blank. Supporters of the practice say that it’s easy to understand and removing the efficient option could mean longer wait times in the voting lines. And, there’s no clear party winner with the practice. Sometimes Republicans benefit and sometimes Democrats. Regardless, even with removing the straight party oval option, voters can still vote 100 percent of the time for their chosen party’s candidates. It just requires selecting each candidate individually.

Since politicians many times fail to find paths of compromise that result in accomplishments for our state and nation, maybe it’s all wrong to think of them as our leaders. Maybe the real leaders are the average voters. By discontinuing the practice of straight party voting and showing a willingness to consider the merits of all candidates on the ballot, voters will be leading by example.

There is, it seems, something unreasonable about straight party voting. Do we really believe that either all Democrats or all Republicans are the “bad guys?” Sounds discriminatory. We don’t discriminate in other areas, and we shouldn’t in our political lives either.

True, we have different viewpoints, opinions and beliefs. And this belief system typically aligns well with one party or the other. It’s pretty simple to align with a party.

Aligning with a candidate is tougher. It takes times to become informed about how one candidate differs from another. How has an incumbent performed in office? What has he or she accomplished? What qualifications or campaign promises does a challenger offer?

Today’s media does make it easier to be informed. Most newspapers have online editions. Social media, although not always the most reliable source, helps by getting people talking about the issues and asking questions. News radio shows have proliferated. Cable television has many channels devoted to non-stop news and commentary, and the steadfast, major networks continue to provide local and world news nightly.

There are typically a dozen or more choices to be made on each ballot. Democrats or Republicans accustomed to straight party voting might consider one candidate from the opposite party who could earn their vote. When in doubt–either from lack of information about the candidate or because both candidates are equally appealing (or equally displeasing)–vote party preference. But if the voter cannot find one, acceptable candidate running opposite his or her party choice, a clearer understanding will develop of why gridlock exists. If voters see only red or blue, why would we expect elected officials to behave differently?

There’s an attitude of gridlock that begins in the voting booth. Adjusting voting behavior, by eliminating the straight party oval option and encouraging voters to consider each candidate, won’t  change the world. But a change in attitude brings a change in expectation, an expectation that politicians who were sent to problem solve–do so. No matter which party is in the majority at the time.

There is hope. In the book, “Political Behavior of the American Electorate,” authors William Flanigan and Nancy Zingale closed their research by stating, “Despite the political elite and political activists, a sizable portion of the electorate is moderate or unconcerned about ideology and lacking in firm partisan attachments.”

Democrats and Republicans voting for moderate and reasonable candidates just might elect a group of workers who can put our state and nation first and partisan politics second. If that doesn’t work, voters might consider joining the growing Independent party. If its numbers keep climbing, it’ll be fielding more successful candidates on the ballot.

Perhaps, then, we will see the death of gridlock.