Hope

We close on our house on Tuesday. I am/was so excited by this. Then we got the results. Those results last Tuesday sucked the joy out of my life. I was numb, I was angry, I was sad. And then I wasn’t. It took a couple of days but I turned my negative feelings into something else. I don’t want to be angry. I don’t want to place blame. What I want is to help. I want to hope that this isn’t going to be as bad as it seems but I am a realist. I am trying not to let my imagination run away with apocalyptic ideas of what the future could hold. I want to be here, now. Present. What can I do now, how can I get involved now. It is hard not to be angry. For example, I posted about the #safewithme movement on a neighborhood forum. No opinions, very simple. I just wanted people to be aware of it. I was reported to the moderator for an inappropriate post by one of my neighbors. I could have taken the bait and responded and oh did I want to do that right after I got the email. But I didn’t. Why feed into the hate that got us here in the place. 

As an infertile woman, the prospect of new and limiting legislation on reproductive rights is frightening. As a human, immigration reform, stop and frisk, hate speech/actions, laws against the LGBTQ community, and any other form hate might take are truly terrifying. So instead of being angry or scared I’m taking action. I am using my negative feelings in a positive way. I am volunteering for groups that will protect these rights. Whatever I can do, even if that means stuffing envelopes. 

I met a homeless man last night. He was very kind and friendly. He has been homeless a year. He talked to me about staying positive and believing in the good in people. Then he told me he voted for Trump. I think it is important to mention he was a black man. He talked about how tired he was that no one helped him. Politicians didn’t care about him. He thought maybe Trump would. We just have to give him a chance. It made my heart hurt. For so many reasons. 

I am blue, through and through. I have had many conversations with my MIL who is a social worker for at risk adults about how to help. I don’t have any answers. Only hope. I don’t know what the next four years is going to look like but I know I can’t stand on the sidelines and wait any longer.

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