As we careen into election day and the 8th month of social distancing, as COVID infections and the death toll rises, as the rhetoric flies, it stands to reason that we are all exhausted.
I escaped my little New Jersey town, quaint and historic, and headed north to first, Pittsfield, and then, Springfield, Mass. Both cities are historic – though I think quaint could be reserved for neighborhoods.
The beauty of working from home during a pandemic is that the “home” part of that equation is basically any place that has internet access – literally, anywhere! It had not occurred to me that I could pop out of my little COVID bubble and into another without compromising my or my family’s safety. What a concept! I arrived yesterday, taking the day to drive the four hours and visit with my brother and sister-in-law before landing in my final destination – the home of my friend, whom I have known for 43 years – but who’s counting?
The homes in the neighborhood were built in the early 1900s – all classic New England shapes and styles – in various stages of repair. And though many seem small, they nearly all boast between two and four bathrooms, three stories of live-able space and lots and lots of tile in bathrooms and kitchens with oak floors throughout the house. Plenty of brick, stucco and wooden shingles.
The neighborhood is charming, but like all cities, outside of the neighborhood requires intimate knowledge and some caution. Unfortunately, it is raining, so no outdoor walks for me. It promises to rain for the entire time I am here – and there is even call for snow tomorrow! And the day I leave, Saturday, there will be sunshine. Of course.
My usual reaction to the evil deeds of McConnell and co, along with the Orange Menace, has been tempered a bit. We have a few more weeks of turmoil to go through. Hope against hope that it marks the end of the evil empire and the beginning of the work of decent humans. My brain can no longer tolerate the horrible mendacity of the current administration and its GOP handmaids. They are weak, they are despicable and they are without mercy, kindness or decency.
For the foreseeable future, I choose to fill my brain with hope rather than rage. Oh, the rage is there – it will not go away – but I am not giving it the entirety of my headspace. I prefer the feeling of hope, anyway; there is so much more that can be accomplished when hope, fueled by the rage toward evil and injustice, is allowed to rule.
May your head be filled with hope and fuel the change we so desperately need.
And if you haven’t already, VOTE.