A Rosie is a Rosie is a Rosie.

I wonder. How often we laymen resolve our differences. Over politics. By acknowledging the pettiness of it all. By refusing to take politics as seriously as gangs of humorless politicians.  My friends and I practice the craft of give and take.  Willing to see the other side of controversial issues. We seldom, if ever, break off friendships.  Over politics. Instead, we debate. Politely. And keep open minds. Always. Showing respect for each other. Often with laughter. Take my dear friend Rosie.  Here on the Alzheimer’s message boards. We became allies. A long time ago. In disputes with several other care-givers. Over hot issues related to the politics of care-giving. Yes. Yes. Much of life has political overtones.  Face it. Now it seems odd.  That Rosie and I are on opposite sides of a political fence. Rosie adores the politics and personality of Donald Trump. I despise the guy. And virtually everything that he stands for. If we acted like typical politicians, that could put our friendship at risk. I tell Rosie that she’s been duped. Suckered. Brainwashed. Rosie could take that as a personal insult. But she doesn’t. Instead, she laughs. I have no fear of feeding Rosie the cold and brutal truth. That she’s an ignoramus. When it comes to politics.  Rosie takes it in stride. Recognizing that our friendship is strong. Built on a solid foundation. We can be critical of each other. Doesn’t matter. Because I think of Rosie as a very decent human being. Meanwhile, I keep pondering. How did Rosie get to an unholy political stance? I have theories. Some of which are politically scary. But I adjust.  And remain committed to Rosie. Unconditionally. Knowing that a Rosie is a Rosie is a Rosie. --Jim Broede