Identity Theft

Alzheimer's, dementia, vascular Parkinsonism. It's kind of like identity theft. The people in your life start thinking that you aren't you anymore. But I think you ARE still you.

What is identity, anyway? Is it the numbers on your social security card or driver's license or passport? Is it your position in your family? Is it how you earn your living? Is it what you like to do when you're not working? Is it the sum of what you do, what you say, how you react?

Does identity change? I think a lot about this. And I've recently had a thought that comforts me, so I'm sticking to it. Even if we can't see it or hear it; even if we feel "robbed" by his inability to communicate and act and react in the ways that we are used to; even if we feel helpless to reach him -- he is still there with identity intact.

I like to think that he's hunkered down in the eye of the hurricane that is life. He's warm, and dry, and relieved to be out of the storm. He's found a peace that passes our understanding. He has found a safe harbor. And his identity is safely anchored in the hearts and minds of those who love him.

Corny? Yes. But that's just one of the countless pieces of his identity that is now a part of mine.

Why do I feel like elections are an elective?

Another election day and I didn't vote. My bad. I know all the reasons why I should. I do care about some issues and even did a little research on candidates.

So why didn't I actually fill out my ballot and send it in?

I've thought a lot about this. I'm still trying to come to conclusions that aren't all about being lazy and apathetic. Is this my brain on atrophy?

As a public relations practicioner, I have a relatively good idea of how candidates and issues are packaged for public consumption. And I guess I feel like the package is empty. The people running for office are supposed to represent me, and I don't feel like the majority of candidates have a clear picture of how to represent themselves. I keep wishing/hoping for integrity. Or make that "inte-gritty" because standing up for what you really believe -- instead of saying what you think everyone wants to hear -- is sweaty, dirty, roll-up-your sleeves work.

And all of this is likely my fault. I'm a part of the cultural collective that wants it simple. That's it, give me a slogan. Don't give me the details; that's waaaay too difficult. Go ahead, Mr/Ms Politicician: make it easy for me to have an opinion without really thinking about how it affects my neighbor next door, or my fellow human being on the other side of the world, or my great-great-great grandchild.

Oh, yeah. We did this to ourselves.

So no conclusions today. But I'm going to keep working on this and try really, really hard to get back in the habit of voting before we elect our next president.