Daddy's Girl

It's two days before my birthday – July 4th. Yes, I am a firecracker.  That's pretty obvious.

I just can't stop thinking about my dad. It's been six months since he died and I'm realizing that I never got a chance to grieve.

He died on my wedding anniversary, last year, December 30th, 2021.

Dad was the outcast of the family...

An outspoken conservative Christian and Trump supporter, he used to send the whole family emails about how "Obama was a Muslim."

I'd write back and tell him he was racist. Eventually I just set up a filter to send his emails straight to the trash.

I didn't see my dad for years after my daughter was born. I was convinced that he was crazy and selfish and stupid.  

I was an agnostic, pro-choice, feminist, liberal Democrat until 2016, when I finally decided to read some of the articles my conservative friends were sending me instead of knee-jerk refusing to click on a link because it was from Breitbart or Fox News.

And then I read about Planned Parenthood's founder, Margaret Sangers and the letters she wrote praising eugenics. I watched a YouTube video of Gloria Steinem admitting to Mike Wallace that she was a CIA operative.

I read books by James O'Keefe and Sharyl Attkisson and watched all of Dinesh D'Souza's movies. I read Wikileaks.

And then I watched Pizza Gate play out in October 2016. I watched the Comet Ping Pong people make their Instagram profiles private – after we already screenshot everything. And it was horrible, the things we witnessed.

And when they denied everything after hiding all the evidence, I knew they were lying and it was all true.

The Fourth Turning

You see, back in the spring of 2016, I already knew the war was coming – because we have a war every 80 years. You can read the proof of that in The Fourth Turning: An American Prophecy by William Strauss and Neil Howe.

In that book, they say that every 80 years we have a revolutionary period which lasts 20 years. It always begins with a financial crisis and always culminates in civil or world war. You can read more about their theory here.

They say it's like the winter in the 80 year cycle. We have roughly 20 years of spring (birth, innocence, prosperity), 20 years of summer (growing up, waking up to reality), 20 years of fall (the decline, the unraveling) and winter (the death).

This fourth turning started in 2008 with Obama and the housing crash. That was the financial crisis that kicked it off.

Here's the pattern – you can see it very clearly:

1928 - 1948 - Winter (financial crisis: Black Friday in 1929; culminated in WW2)
1948 - 1968 - Spring
1968 - 1988 - Summer
1988 - 2008 - Fall
2008 - 2028 - Winter
2028 - 2048 - Spring

Spring Is Coming Soon

The good news is, we know the spring is coming.  And don't worry, we don't have 6 more years of fighting.

Remember, World War 2 ended in 1945, but the Winter period didn't end until 1948. The Nuremberg Trials started in 1945.

The Civil War ended in 1865 and the Winter period ended in 1888.

The Gray Champion

Anyway, I knew there would be a strong leader to step in and save the day. Because that's what Strauss & Howe say always happens. Here's a good article explaining The Gray Champion.

Back in 2016, I thought The Gray Champion was Bernie Sanders. I voted for him in the primary.

And then I watched firsthand as he worked with Hillary to rig and steal the election. It was so blatant in California. I was stunned. He was the Pied Piper, leading us all to our demise.

So I started researching Hillary and Bill and the 1990 crime bill Biden wrote and Bill signed. The crime bill that led to generations of single black women and mass incarceration (read Michelle Alexander's book, The New Jim Crow: Mass Incarceration in the Age of Colorblindness.)

I read about Benghazi and all the other lies... so much. I knew I couldn't vote for Hillary.

And when I realized that Bernie was in on the steal, I was completely finished with the Democrats. I dropped them like a hot rock, the way you dump a bad boyfriend who cheated on you and lied about it. No looking back.

Cultural Marxism

I never realized before how political everything was. Never realized how impacted we are all were by the psyop of Cultural Marxism.

We've all been living through The Truman Show. An orchestrated psyop designed to destroy families and communities.

Andrew Breitbart called it in his book, Righteous Indignation: Excuse Me While I Save the World.  If you haven't read that yet, go read it. What a mind-blowingly good book.

I stopped talking to my mother and the rest of my family in 2015. This was after the crash of my business when I had lost everything. At the time, I stopped speaking to them because they were so selfish – they didn't seem to care about the financial problems I was having.

It wasn't until years later that I put the pieces together and realized they didn't care about me because they thought I was crazy.

In 2015, I hadn't become a conservative yet, but I had woken up to how evil Big Pharma was. That was when they were pushing mandatory vaccines in California and I was speaking out against it. And that's when my family members (everyone except my dad and stepmom, looking back on it) started unfriending and unfollowing me.

I wasn't even saying vaccines are poison (which of course is true) – I was just saying they shouldn't be mandated. But my own cousin blocked me on Facebook.

She's a nurse. Of course.

There are a lot of nurses on my mother's side of the family – aunts and cousins – and they all stopped commenting on my Facebook posts. I didn't realize it then, but they had all quietly unfollowed me. Because they thought I was nuts. A crazy anti-vaxxer.

Father's Day

It was on Father's Day in the spring of 2017, after I had become a conservative and voted for Trump, that I finally called my father for the first time in years.

"Hi, Dad," I said, "Happy Father's Day."

"Thank you," he seemed genuinely pleased. "It's so good to hear your voice."

"Dad, I have something to tell you."

"Okay..."

"Remember when you used to send me those emails saying Obama was a Muslim?"

"Yes," he said, a bit cautious.

"You were right."

He burst into laughter. "This is the best Father's Day gift ever!"

Recovery

My parents got divorced after he got sober. I was 19 years old, away at my first year at college. My dad had stopped drinking the year before after he had a bad accident driving drunk on the highway.

After they threw him in the drunk tank, he said an angel came to him and told him to stop drinking. Just that scene in the movie, It's A Wonderful Life, when Jimmy Stewart's guardian angel, Clarence, shows up to save his life.

When I was in my senior year of high school, Dad went to daily AA meetings and worked his way through the 12 steps.  I went to Al-Anon and Adult Children of Alcoholics meetings.

I'll never forget the day my dad got down on his knees and apologized me for all the pain he'd caused me through with his alcoholism.  

It was one of the most special moments in my entire life. It took great courage for my dad to stop drinking. I knew that even then.

I forget which one of the twelve step that one was. You do it so you can make amends to those you hurt with your addiction. Which helps you mend relationships and also forgive yourself.

Apples Don't Fall Far From The Tree

Interestingly, I stopped drinking right after he did. I was only 19, living in San Francisco with my boyfriend. And I never touched a drop of alcohol. The smell of it made me sick.

I remember there was a security guard at the department store where I worked full time. He always reeked of booze from the night before. I couldn't stand to go near him.

My dad stayed sober for the rest of his life. Till the day he died.

He was a happy man. He loved God. He loved America. He loved his family. He loved to read and I could spend hours talking to him about books.

The only thing that made him unhappy was how alienated he was from his children.

No Regrets

I was the only one of his children to visit him when he was in home hospice for the last two years of his life. They never even called him. My stepmom said he felt very sad about it, but he was glad that he got to see me.

Honestly, if it weren't for my awakening to the truth, I would have missed out on that.

It's been hell going through everything I have gone through this past few years. People have mocked me, made fun of me, unfriended and blocked me, gossiped behind my back (I have the screenshots), and tried to get me cancelled.

I lost almost all of my family, most of my friends, got completely censored by Big Tech, and 90% of my income.

But it was worth it all... just to know I got to spend a little more time with my dad before he died.

The Best Seat in The House

Anyway, I made one last trip to visit my stepmom last week, to get the rest of his things. She saved the flag from his funeral and the shells from the gun salute – which I have in our dining room now.

I didn't get to go to the funeral. "It's only a 15-minute ceremony," she said. I would have liked to go, but I didn't want to press it with her.

And now, six months later, I'm feeling sad. Missing my dad. Wish I had gotten the chance to go to his funeral, celebrate his life, and grieve his passing.

The last time I saw him, I prayed the rosary over him.

He was not able to speak or make eye contact. And then after I left, he called me and talked to me a few days later. I wrote about it in this article: Praying For Miracles.

That was the last time I got to hear his voice.

The last time I saw him when he was himself was last summer. I brought my 6-year-old son and he played games on his iPad while my Dad and my stepmom and I watched the Trump rally.

After I got the call that he died, I looked up at the ceiling and I said, "Dad, how can you die now? You're gonna miss the best part. The part where we win."

And I very clearly heard him say, "I've got the best seat in the house."

Hold The Line

I truly believe that he is watching with his popcorn.

I know he's with his Mom, my Grandma Florence. She was hovering in the corner of his room in the months before he died, ready to help him cross over.

But I still miss him.

And it occurs to me that maybe this is why I'm having such a challenging time in my marriage right now.

We all need time to grieve. We need space. We need comfort. And we can't always be our best when we are in a temporary state of grief.

I can't be there for my husband because I haven't processed my feelings about my dad. It is temporary, but it is necessary.

I don't miss being able to spend time with my dad now – because I know he was in really bad shape and in pain. What I miss is all they years I wasn't close to him. Because of politics.  

It's all just so very sad. But like everything in life, this too shall pass.

And I know the best is yet to come. The winter and the war will be over soon, and it will be springtime again.

Thank you, Dad, for being my hero.

I will hold the line.