For me, living in the UK, this is the lowest blow yet. For years I worked for a charity that helped resettle Syrians, Afghans and Ukrainians in our local community. I've become very good friends with many people in these communities, I'm having coffee with a Ukrainian friend today, I'm bracing for how the conversation will go. I need to punch someone, I need a hug, I need to scream and cry and swear and lay down to sleep for weeks. This is just awful, horrible news. I knew it would come, but kn…
I crashed this evening after supper. When I woke up from my nap, I had this tune in my head or on my heart, and as though I could hear someone playing the piano, I started singing. I mean, I belted it out: God Bless America. (Irving Berlin wrote this in 1918.) I sang it and then I burst into tears. This is not my "normal" reply to one of your posts, Joyce, but this is how overwhelmed we all feel. How could they? My parents lived through WWII, my uncle landed on the beaches of Normandy to fight …
The biggest disconnect isn’t just the early morning, pre-coffee reading/writing/hit-the-send button moments… it’s trying to figure out what the hell it means in reality to both take care of self and defend country. I dream of looking away, until my grand babies’ faces float up before my eyes. Let’s get to it and kick these bastards to the curb.