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.
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