The impeachment and crossing over

The Democrats actually did it; they impeached President Trump.

When I switched parties in late July of 2016, it felt in a way, very much like what we Catholics call "crossing the Tiber."  The Tiber is a river in Rome, and "crossing it" is commonly understood to refer to someone, usually of a Protestant faith, who converts to Catholicism.

Though I've been leaning and often voting Republican in recent years, it was the Democratic Convention from July 25–28, 2016, and the radical left agenda introduced there, that was for me the defining moment when I knew I was no longer a Democrat.  As Reagan said, "the party left me."  All that was left to do was to make it official; my wife and I made the change together.

I must imagine that the turmoil I felt within the certainty, as a lifelong Democrat becoming Republican, must feel a lot like what it feels like for a Protestant to become Catholic.  For me, it was embracing in a deeper way my understanding of the Church's teaching — on abortion, on marriage, on the human person, on objective truth.

Had it been a couple of weeks earlier, I might have likened the switch to the signing of the Declaration of Independence.  The ill tempered bitterness that accompanied my voyage into the night that swallowed me felt more like crossing the Delaware.  To my staunchly Democratic family, in staunchly Democratic Pittsburgh, Pa., my becoming a Republican, worse still, to vote for Donald Trump, was more akin to me having crossed the Styx, the river of death.  The reaction that best summed up the collective guilt heaped upon my decision to change sides: "Your mom and dad wouldn't approve."

As the Democrats and #Resistance have dogged Trump for the entire three years of his presidency, my conscience for as long has dogged me.  Was I a traitor to my family, to my people; would my parents disapprove?

Those nagging questions all ceased Wednesday night.  The Democrats actually did it — without the least reservation, without an ounce of fairness, or respect for the rule of law, or the will of the people, they did it: they impeached President Trump. 

The guilty conscience, the uncertainty, the shame were all dispelled in a single gavel strike.  Not only was I right to switch parties, but I am proud to have done so, to become Republican.  And proud to have voted for Donald Trump.  Now, for me, there is no looking back — only looking forward.

I clicked off the TV, went to bed, and slept like a baby.  And awoke with a feeling of optimism, and a renewed invigoration heading into 2020.  I can't help wondering how many Democrats can say the same.

The Democrats actually did it; they impeached President Trump.

When I switched parties in late July of 2016, it felt in a way, very much like what we Catholics call "crossing the Tiber."  The Tiber is a river in Rome, and "crossing it" is commonly understood to refer to someone, usually of a Protestant faith, who converts to Catholicism.

Though I've been leaning and often voting Republican in recent years, it was the Democratic Convention from July 25–28, 2016, and the radical left agenda introduced there, that was for me the defining moment when I knew I was no longer a Democrat.  As Reagan said, "the party left me."  All that was left to do was to make it official; my wife and I made the change together.

I must imagine that the turmoil I felt within the certainty, as a lifelong Democrat becoming Republican, must feel a lot like what it feels like for a Protestant to become Catholic.  For me, it was embracing in a deeper way my understanding of the Church's teaching — on abortion, on marriage, on the human person, on objective truth.

Had it been a couple of weeks earlier, I might have likened the switch to the signing of the Declaration of Independence.  The ill tempered bitterness that accompanied my voyage into the night that swallowed me felt more like crossing the Delaware.  To my staunchly Democratic family, in staunchly Democratic Pittsburgh, Pa., my becoming a Republican, worse still, to vote for Donald Trump, was more akin to me having crossed the Styx, the river of death.  The reaction that best summed up the collective guilt heaped upon my decision to change sides: "Your mom and dad wouldn't approve."

As the Democrats and #Resistance have dogged Trump for the entire three years of his presidency, my conscience for as long has dogged me.  Was I a traitor to my family, to my people; would my parents disapprove?

Those nagging questions all ceased Wednesday night.  The Democrats actually did it — without the least reservation, without an ounce of fairness, or respect for the rule of law, or the will of the people, they did it: they impeached President Trump. 

The guilty conscience, the uncertainty, the shame were all dispelled in a single gavel strike.  Not only was I right to switch parties, but I am proud to have done so, to become Republican.  And proud to have voted for Donald Trump.  Now, for me, there is no looking back — only looking forward.

I clicked off the TV, went to bed, and slept like a baby.  And awoke with a feeling of optimism, and a renewed invigoration heading into 2020.  I can't help wondering how many Democrats can say the same.