As dawn reluctantly shows her resigned face, I sit here, turning once again to words. Unable to sleep, like most of you, I imagine, I didn’t know what to do with myself, not even able to keep still.
I didn’t think I’d write a post, but what else is there for me to do, before all words must be weighed, sorted and measured. We’ve done what we could do.
We’ve done what we can do.
I won’t offer words of comfort this morning, as I don’t have any and they would feel hollow, inadequate. Instead, we can all collapse on the floor together, we can all pace the room together, we can all stare at nothing at all while trying to process together.
Yes, it feels like a whole bunch of people dimmed the lights on tomorrow, when we could have had them bright and warm and inviting. That was their choice.
Possibly one of the last political choices they’ll ever make, but they don’t seem to mind.
The last time I sat here, shellshocked, disbelieving, I cried, and I cried for all of us, even the people who had no idea what they’d brought upon themselves.
I’m not crying today. Not that I won’t but I’m not now. Like the dawn, at least for this moment, I am resigned.
But for the people who now know fully-well what they brought upon themselves?
There will never be a single tear.
I will feel nothing for the ones who chose this who end up losing their Social Security and their Medicare. Their health insurance, their senior credits. Nothing for the ones who find themselves in medical bankruptcies again, who have to chose between insulin and groceries, who find that $10 a dozen for eggs is the norm when there’s no such thing as price-fixing and stand in lines for bread while the ones who persuaded them laugh.
And yes, we’ll be subjected to the same, but maybe not all of the same. They’ve turned me into the kind of person who will enjoy their misery, their bewilderment when they are also made to suffer.
I will enjoy all the “exceptions” learning, without a trace of consideration that it could be them too, learning that they are not.
Of course, this is a post written on very little sleep as my mind churns through ways to make it through not only the next four years but possibly the rest of most of our lives. Probably not what you want to hear but also probably what you’re thinking too.
This fear never left me, no matter how much I wanted to see us literally save the world. Now, well…
And of course I have my suspicions and concerns but I’m already weighing and measuring, I’m already parsing and considering.
I’m sad for the young people who worked so hard against this and will have to blossom in a stark, cold world. I’m sad for the people who watched never again become again. I’m sad for every single person who now feels like a walking, visible target, this is not the life I wanted for you and this is not the life you deserve.
The future isn’t here yet, though, and over the last nine years, we’ve all been through a lot, some of us especially personally. Hardened by the flame or stressed at the joints, we can only wait to see.
But this morning, with the gray clouds that never did turn pink or purple as the sun ascended, this morning we will taste our bitterness, this morning we will feel as we feel.
Be kind to yourself today. And be kind to the people who deserve it as well.
A Bit to Read 
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