My Grandmother Voted for Trump

And She Died For It

My grandmother voted for Donald Trump, and she died for it. A shrewd woman, eighty-seven years old, all of us in the family were sure she’d make it to over 100, died from the Trump pandemic of 2020.

Often in our interactions with her, we’d listen politely to her views, most of them outdated, borderline racist, or confusing of truth from lie. But because of love, each of us gave her a pass.

What were we to do? At 87, she’d been around the block. A successful businesswoman, from the 1950’s, until her retirement in the 1980’s, she’d been a buyer for a major department store. She’d cleverly navigated her way to the top of retail’s heyday, when people still shopped at malls and big department stores. She’d raised a family. And she had eleven grandchildren and seven great grandchildren, seemingly able to give each an equal amount of love. We adored her.

When she did espouse a view outside of truth and reality, it was always put in the form of a question. Never did she utter an outright slur. She questioned the changing climate. She questioned the equality of peoples. She questioned science. An educated woman, she successfully bought and sold stocks, had a secure retirement, owned her home outright, and in the end left a little something to each of her descendants.