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October 14, 2018

It’s been a rough few weeks since “she said/he said” threw the country into turmoil.


I thought only a declaration of war could do that.


The level of ugliness that surfaced astounded me. I thought I’d seen most of what humankind is possible in my seventy-five years.


No so. People I hold to a higher standard by the elected office they hold, sank to a new low.


I cringed. I prayed for sanity, human dignity, compassion to rule.


I prayed for every mother who had a daughter that had been sexually assaulted. I knew that old wounds were bleeding again.


I knew no band aid or surgical dressing would stem the flow of memories, of tears.


Only time can heal.


And the three-ring circus of the past weeks has ripped away the Veil of Time and we mothers are once again standing at a bedside or an open grave.


I’ve been sleeping badly. My subconscious creating all manner of nightmares.


But last night I realized that –


  • I’ve done all I can.

  • Events will run its course.

  • The country will bumble through.

  • It’s up to the next generation to pick up the cudgel.


I’m tired. So tired.


  • Of being upset.

  • Of watching a sick drama unfold.

  • Of knowing the world is watching and laughing.

  • Of being kept awake and so –


I reminded myself of how much there is to be grateful for. On a personal level. On a wider level.


And that the United States, my adopted country I love so much, is still a democracy.


I have a voice and a vote. So have you. Please use it.


Photo by Vera Arsic on Pexels


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