Strange and mysterious.

My sister Babs and I call each other ignoramuses. Have done so. Fondly. For all of our lives. No need to take offense. Babs and I disagree. On numerous matters. Hard to keep count.  Like my friend Rosie. Babs is a devout supporter of Donald Trump. She does it with religious fervor. Sees Trump as a savior of the nation. Even when he lies, Babs forgives him.  Because she says there are many, many versions of political truth. And that it’s good enough for her. She has unquestioned faith. That Trump will guide us down a divine and righteous path. No reason to fret. Relax, Bab tells me. All will be well. Don’t worry. Be happy. ‘It’s all right to be an ignoramus,’ she blurts. ‘I love you anyway. Unconditionally.’  Turns out. I love my sister, too. Another sign. That life is strange and mysterious. -Jim Broede