A good old party

It feels like watching a movie. But it’s for real. The Republican National Convention. The Good Old Party. And I am wondering: is it even possible being a Republican if you don’t have a family?

Ann Romney looks like a news anchor and sounds like a politician. Her president to be wife-speech wasn’t even finished until she was appointed a star speaker. On her CV of trials in life is Multiple Sclerosis and breast cancer. She has raised five sons who all look like quarterbacks and presidential material and she has 18 grandchildren, all dressed in the same blue and white-checkered shirt on the humongous family photo. Well, if you are feeling just a tiny bit lonely in life, this might be a cake that’s simply too rich for you.

I am watching this bedridden in my rented apartment on lower Queen Anne in Seattle. I have an out of this world Frazier view overlooking the beautiful Seattle skyline and Mount Rainier to the south. And to the west ferries, fright carriers, cruise ships and sail boats on Elliot Bay. The sun has been out 42 days in one stretch, we might be heading for a record. I could be stuck in worse places so to speak. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever been stuck in a better place. Cause I have a history of getting stuck.

My back went out this Wednesday. The slightest bend forward and there it was, the knife right across my lower back. You can’t negotiate with a knife. And my chiropractor out of town. So, flat in bed.

I don’t think I ever feel as vulnerable and lonely as when these things happen. It’s bad when I am in Umeå. Especially in the winter. But it’s even worse when in Seattle. Cause there is always the question: how the hell am I going to get back to Sweden?

When you are in a family there are people coming and going in your house. No matter what the family looks like; happy unhappy, big small, functional, dysfunctional, balanced or annoying, at least there is someone on routine putting the key in the door every day. And at your “hello”, someone would respond. And even if that response wasn’t friendly, someone could bring you a glass of water and fix you something to eat. Let’s put it like this: when you are in some kind of family you won’t be lying dead for a lot of days without someone stumbling over you.

So, how did I survive this time around, all alone with the Seattle skyline? Well, I was very lucky. I was rescued by my next-door neighbors who just moved into the building the other day, Stilian, the new assistant director of the Seattle Symphony, and his pianist wife Anastasia. They cooked dinner for me and we shared a bottle of wine and the view and the full moon. I think it was my best rescue ever. And as they are new in town, we kind of created a temporary family for ourselves and the dramatic day turned into a lovely evening.

Cause that’s the thing. When you cannot expect a key in your door you have to come up with creative solutions. And you actually need to ask strangers for help. Which to me has been a very hard thing to learn. But doing that might bring you unexpected meetings and experiences that won’t happen when you are sheltered in a family, whatever that family is. I am looking at the Romney family with their Disney smiles and checkered shirts. You can be very lonely even within a family. But being exposed and vulnerable, as a lot of Americans are, and not having access to some kind of family is truly a very hard place to be in.

Which brings me back to the question: Is it possible being a republican if you don’t have a family? The good old party of a family. I am looking at all those people at the Convention, nodding and waving their flags and I am thinking: I don’t think so. I think it must be way to painful.