Where is our Decency?

I don’t understand what has happened. I am filled with questions. Where is our decency?

Is it not a virtue to clothe the naked, feed the hungry, and shelter the homeless? Is that not what religions of all kinds tell us?

I don’t understand. Where is our decency?

Is it not our obligation to stand between the oppressor and the oppressed? To reach out to those in search of freedom and liberty? Is that not what Emma Lazarus wrote on the Statue of Liberty?

When did the bully, the violator, the abuser, the liar become our hero? Why would anyone side with such people? Our most sacred texts tell us to fight for justice, oppose evil, and do the right thing.  

Where is our decency?

Healing the sick is the most basic of good causes. Do the ill deserve care? Should one’s physical wellbeing be determined by income and corporate profit? Does not every sick child, mother, father, neighbor deserve healing?

Love thy neighbor as thyself is a clear commandment. It is a value that all traditions share. Hate thy neighbor, fear thy neighbor, or hurt thy neighbor is antithetical to our noblest and most cherished values.

Opening our homes to those who have had to leave theirs was once seen as an act of godliness. Whatever you have done, one sacred text reads, for your brothers, you have done for god. The reverse is also true, according to that good book. Who closes the door on the needy and wretched?  Is it righteous to turn your back on the downtrodden and desperate?

I don’t understand.

Is fear a value? Is anger a virtue? Do we let those parts of ourselves direct our course? What happens to us, as individuals, families, and communities, when these become our driving motivations?

Who have we become if the sins of greed, lust, pride, and wrath are applauded, lauded, and admired? When did those become the goals to which we aspire? Who are we if those are our most powerful traits? Where is our humility? Where is our generosity? Where are our gratitude and goodwill?

Good people can do bad things. All it takes for the “isms” to win is for otherwise good people to rationalize them away. Racism is okay if it brings jobs. Sexism is okay if we don’t like the specific person. Are our standards that thin? Are we people who are willing to betray our values for petty gain? Why place the Ten Commandments in public places if you don’t live them in your life?

How we comport ourselves in times of crisis and challenge defines us. If we only hold our most sacred morals when times are good and things are easy, what does that say about us? 

Is this what we want for our children? Do we want them to live that way? What example do we set? How do we want them to see us?

I hear the words that Joseph Welch said to Senator Joe McCarthy, “ Have you no sense of decency, sir, at long last? Have you left no sense of decency?”

I am not sure I want to hear the answer.

The Thanksgiving Nest

At the end of a visit, my grandmother would often ask, “When will I see you again?”  or  “You’re leaving already?” I remember finding this irritating. I am visiting now! Why are you asking me this? How needy!

A little more than a week after Thanksgiving, I share her feelings. Having both of my children home, even if they were out with friends or doing homework, was wonderful. The fact that we will be back together in three weeks consoles me only a little.

I should be thankful. I got nearly a week with my entire family under one roof. It was joyful to be with them. I am grateful, but I am very eager to bring the entire family together again. Thanksgiving break wasn’t enough. It was a tease and a taste of times that are gone.

Yes, college students return home. But my elder is about to get her graduate degree and, hopefully, a job in a city far away. My younger has big summer plans. I am telling myself that I better learn to enjoy this new diet of family time because it is all I will get. But I haven’t accepted the reality of the situation yet.

I have come to terms with the term “empty nest.” My wife and I live here, so the nest isn’t entirely empty. Both of my children still call this their “permanent address,” but I think that will only be for a few more months. Neither has cleaned out his or her room or registered to vote or drive in another state – yet.

It has only been 105 days since our younger child went to college, but whose counting? It will only be another three weeks until he comes home for winter break. So what’s the big deal?

I miss my children. That is the deal. My friends tell me that I will adjust and come to love living in a quieter and childless home. I believe them. They love it. They may be right that I will love it, too. Someday. Not today.

Today, I miss my children. I hide my tears as the bus pulls out to take the younger back to college. I sniffle and pull myself together on the early morning ride from the airport dropping off the elder. While the kids have adjusted marvelously well, I am still in transition. Maybe I am becoming my grandmother.  

I haven’t become accustomed to an empty nest or the idea of long distance parenting. I get home and expect to see one of my children studying or watching television. When I return from services on a Friday night, I should be relieved that I can go to sleep and not wait up for someone to get home. I’m not. I wait up anyhow.

Thanksgiving Break is joyous. I will do anything to be with the kids. I went shopping on Black Friday. I went to a women’s clothing store and Bed, Bath, and Beyond. It doesn’t matter. Happily, the Thanksgiving meal is just half a day and I only have to share them a little. I find that I am jealous of my son’s high school friends who have been getting as much or more time with him as the rest of us. In addition to struggling with letting go, have I mentioned that I am not good at sharing my children either?

Not that I am complaining.

Thanksgiving break is a tease. Yet, it is a tease I was eagerly anticipating. It is not as long as winter break, but, after several months, I was thrilled that my home was full again. I could talk to my children without the assistance of technology, although not without the distraction of technology.

We are all growing up. I am just doing it a little more reluctantly.

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