This is the evening of November 4th 2024. The promise of a red sky at night.
I waited and kept busy on the fifth.
Even made a new soup, polenta with cannellini beans and spinach.
And then this the following morning.
I took down my Harris signs before my trump neighbors were up to watch me. I threw my political pin into a basket out of sight. I tried to breathe at chair yoga. And along with this image, I posted the following on Facebook in answer to all the people from other parts of the world who asked me “why?”
11/6/2024
For those of you around the world…I am sorry.
Like many of us here in the not-so-United States, it was shocking to see the direction this country has chosen for not only the next four years, but long, long afterward.
This morning I have said goodbye to the land I grew up in, to the security of knowing we were special, we stood for principles, and a way of life guided by integrity and a decency that supported our long-standing democracy.
I gave my American flag away in 2016. Under the selfless leadership of the past four years, I almost, almost wanted to buy a new one.
I likely will not live through these next four years and the time it will take to come back to who we were. The last thing I want to flaunt is an American flag.
I now grieve with almost half this country along with the rest of the world for what we have done.
And then went to a bar for lunch with a friend who was also in shock. I schooled the owner on how to make a Bloody Mary with protein so we could call it a healthy lunch.
Then yesterday a new entry on Facebook in response to even more shock coming in from around the world.
11/7/2024
The grief has subsided. What helped, really helped, is convincing myself that I will be living in a foreign country from here on out.
This is a place that over half the population chose to make America, not great, but different. Not a place of hope. Not a place that recognizes the value of women. Not a place that will lend a helping hand to those suffering. But a place of misogyny, crudeness, and spite.
This is the new America, forged on the blind ignorance and grievance of a majority willing to be led by manipulation rather than use their own eyes or think for themselves.
I plan to adjust accordingly and spend what time I have left in a country that is less than America. Much, much less.
Then to my dermatologist where he had Trump coffee table books on display. (I checked to see if he was sporting gold high tops, and no, he wasn’t. At least not yet.) Also in his office waiting room was a man in a Trump hat saying a friendly hello to me. He recognized me from the gym and wanted to introduce himself, Tony DeSantis. I asked if he was related. No, but from Florida. He was very congenial and I worried that he was going to say, “How about that election!” in the same way people say, “How about those Dodgers!” He did not. We are now on a first name basis. Me, Tony, and several of the over 50% of those living in what used to be my country.
All of my news channels are now laying dormant in the television as are news feeds on my phone. It no longer matters. This is not my place to care anymore.
After another Bloody Mary lunch at the same bar, I went off to poetry. I put two poems on one page because they are related and only three weeks apart. The second I wrote the day after waking up to a new world.
11/7/2024
Here and There
I will stay over here
on the side of knowing
that those over there
have made the wrong choice.
And then this:
No Longer Caring
Such a strange feeling,
this complete emptiness.
No tide within
pulling me toward
a need to feel
the passions of caring.
I am beyond empty.
Reconciled to this place below
the surface of believing.
Here I can let go,
release my grip
on the hope that others
cared as much.
The cats are oblivious to how much comfort they are.
And I am ready to spend the weekend working on getting good prints from my wood cut.
I had a dream last night and woke to commit it to memory.
An elderly couple who were good friends of ours came back from Heaven to help new owners of their house decorate for the holidays. They brought their favorite libation. When they arrived at their old house where I, my husband and kids were waiting with the new owner, my old friend broke down in tears at what was happening to her old home. The new owner was smiling and chatting about where to hang the ornaments. My friend sobbed. I poured her a drink and it did not help. The new owner, I think, represents the new order of things, not realizing how much she needed the assistance of those from before. All six of us turned and walked away from the new owner still asking in a very cheerful voice how to do something. We each realized that we can no longer help. It is her place now.
Wasn’t that a telling dream for some time after midnight in our new life?
I need to take a walk around the block and maybe ink my block up for a test print.
Til later….
