A Special Message for my Trump Supporting Friends

This is the message:

You're still my friend.

I care about you and the contributions we make to each other's lives.

If I didn't care about you, this wouldn't be so difficult,  I wouldn't be losing so much sleep and be so anxious and disturbed.

You are very kind to me, my family, the community, and many others.  You're polite, and you treat strangers well.  I'll never see you on videos cursing immigrants and minorities out. 

But, there's something terribly wrong.  And I don't know how to handle it.

It's been clear to me from the beginning that Trump is not worthy of your vote or your support.  I knew this from the first time I heard he went bankrupt.  I saw him on Celebrity Apprentice and realized that he was a blustering empty shell - that he had no real core or advice for people - the show careened on his useless and contradictory advice.

I knew it when I saw his blatant racism, including discriminating against renters based on skin color.  I knew it when he started his campaign by calling Mexicans rapists and murderers.  I knew it when he mocked a disabled reporter.

Many of you may remember that in the primaries that I did not ask you to stop being a conservative.  I begged you not to vote for Trump.

It didn't bother you when he conspired with Russia.  It didn't bother you when he was going to effect a ban based on religion.  It didn't bother you when he turned his back on global warming, when he gave a massive tax cut to the wealthy that will blow an unclosable hole in the budget, when he shreds the emolument clause and enriches himself and his family at the expense of the taxpayer. 

You ignore his foul tweets, filled with vile and destructive insults.  You pay no attention to his sexual indiscretions and payouts.  You forgive a zillion things that you would have grabbed a pitchfork and marched on Washington had Obama done them. 

All this breaks my heart, but what broke my spirit was how you didn't care that he was breaking up parents from their children.  I don't care how you feel about immigration, or whether you consider them criminals. This was wrong, and the fact that you don't see it, or have rationalized it, leaves me sad and broken. 

But none of this says that I don't want to be your friend. Whether I see you at church, or at the theatre, at work, or any place else, know that you're still my friend, and I care about you.

I am hurt.  I am confused.  I am worried.  But you are still my friend, and I will strive to be as open to you as I can.  Sometimes I will be quiet, but I will not turn our friendship into a political battleground.

But know this.  I will always hope and pray that you wake up.

I end with a quote from Anne Frank:

It’s difficult in times like these: ideals, dreams and cherished hopes rise within us, only to be crushed by grim reality. It’s a wonder I haven’t abandoned all my ideals, they seem so absurd and impractical. Yet I cling to them because I still believe, in spite of everything, that people are truly good at heart.