This fall, as the elections came into full swing, I really tried to maintain some positivity before my annual pilgrimage to Taiwan. I was feeling hopeful and encouraged by the groundswell of the Harris Walz campaign… she had somehow managed to turn this sinking ship around from the doldrums of watching two grandpas duke things out to infusing the efforts with so much promise, vibrance, humor, wit, energy… I was feeling so good about where we were all headed.
Meanwhile, I couldn’t help but feel that my inner circle had reservations. Even friends who I considered to be more positive than I, expressed reluctance and skepticism. It was starting to irk me, tbh. I mean, seriously, we had Beyonce and Taylor Swift… ridiculous donation bucks. What was it going to take to get you people to be convinced?!?!?
Well, turns out I was the dumbass left holding the bag. The intelligentsia around me had all been holding their breath, and goddamn, I went to bed that night so defeated and so disenchanted wondering what on Earth just happened.
The next day, we were slated to fly out to Taiwan. Every year the trip to see my parents is riddled with stress and dread. I had really wanted to exuberance of the elections to fill my cup and get me emotionally/mentally ready for a stressful 12 days in Asia. No. such. luck.
While we waited on the airport lounge for our flight, I was obsessed with reading the news, trying to understand what the fuck just happened. Who did this? Why did the Dems fail so miserably? What I found echoed some similar phrases I had been hearing among the local elites (which I consider my inner circle to be): The Dem’s have no strategy. Their marketing sucks. Their messaging sucks. There’s no plan. WTF are you talking about?
She had a plan. She proposed specific initiatives. What was HIS plan? I was so pissed that once again the woman was somehow to blame. What did you need to hear? Tell me exactly what it is you needed to hear to be convinced that she was the right candidate for the job, and he wasn’t. I’m not satisfied with any of it. And so I sat at the lounge table eating my free but tasteless snacks, my eyes welling up. I sobbed. It was the worst day. And now I was headed to see my family and I was possibly to be in the presence of my anti-vaxer brother. All my plans to fill my cup crashed and burned.
Overall the trip went fine. Better than expected. It helped that John did some last minute finagling to score us biz class tickets on the ride over. Fucking 14 hours and the lie-flat seats were freaking amazeballs. He had been talking it up for years, and it just felt like such an unnecessary luxury. Well, this time it was essential. Flight over was great.
Visit with the parentals went fine. Thankfully, Mom had recently entered a quieter phase, so instead of all her angry outbursts and toxic accusations last year, she was pretty quiet. During the 12 days, she still had her moments and she still bites and pinches, but she seemed more tolerable. My brother was there, we had some civil conversations, but he doesn’t look well. He’s too far in on these bohemian health tonics and supplements but I just have to let it go. It’s not my job to save him. There were a few eruptions between him and my father that I had to break up and talk them down. You know I’ve had some kind of massive breakthrough when Vicky Volcano is the calm one.
Interestingly, I visited with a few of my cousins and my oldest aunt. My one cousin who is 52 y/o had the nerve to tell me it’s not too late for me to have kids. I can still get it done for the family. My aunt then proceeded with her annual message: You know, if you were a typical daughter in Taiwan whose father begged/asked her to have children, 99% of them would have acquiesced to their parents’ dream. No one would deny something that their parents wanted so badly. Gee, thanks. First, I’m not a typical Taiwanese daughter. Second, I’m 48 y/o, why are you telling me this, as if I had ANY regrets about my decision? As if I’d even consider changing my mind. Jesus Christ, stay in your fucking lane already.
Needless to say, 12 days was a goddamn eternity but I survived thanks to the amazing buffering power of Bubs. I came away from the trip thinking maybe I would try checking in with my brother every once in a while. He clearly has mental illness issues (maybe borderline personality), but since he doesn’t believe in meds (but he does believe in unregulated, non-FDA approved pills/supplements), nothing is going to really help stabilize him. And so it’s an entire life just filled with trauma, pain, depression, self loathing… I’ve never really understand why people stagnate in misery. They insist they have no choice. They insist they don’t choose this kind of paralysis. But I’m not the best at empathizing on this. I’ve always believed in some element of self-determination and choice. At least for anyone who grew up with privilege in the US. It’s a core belief, and I will always believe there’s a way out. But I guess the reality is, not everyone agrees.
The journey back was a beotch. Partly bc we were back in economy. Yeah, I knew biz class travel was going to be a Pandora’s box. Fucking A. The 12-hr flight back in economy sucked much more than I ever remembered. But holy fuck, it was amazing to be back home.
Fortunately, the dog sitter we hired was a legit adult with real accountability and responsibilities. Benny still had his poopy problems and accidents, but she took them in stride and best of all, she was a homebody who liked to hang out with the dog. I was relieved to see them bonded. It’s nice to know we have an option now that we didn’t have before. But I still think he’s on this last year, so there’s that. Only happy thoughts here, can you tell?