Three days to go: This is not an easy countdown for me, but a very unsettled set of circumstances from which I must still complete my daily tasks, communicate with friends and family, and ponder not only what tomorrow may bring, but not knowing how difficult the tomorrow’s after that might become. It is not melodramatic, it is symptomatic of conditions that have surfaced flamed by insincerity, ravaged by innuendo, and tortured by a lack of will to find the simplest of things Something in Common, Something For the Good of All.
In reading non-fiction accounts of history usually composed by Sages from the days of BCE, to the mid-century journals of Tribal Leaders fighting religious wars, to languishing on the accounts of the 17th to 20th century Archivists, mostly hearing the words of warriors, generals, to members of the royal court, I had wondered who spoke for the common person. What emotions, expectations, fears, or foibles filled the hearts and minds of people who had opinions but seemingly were on the bottom rung of decision making. Often time I would recoil, wanting to reprimand the villager, the farmer, the peasant, the mid-level administrator, the teacher, for not making the difference they so desperately realized was necessary. I read and re-read, and only a few times found that the common person, alone, could make the change he or she had felt in their hearts was necessary. Too many times I felt discomfort understanding that some mountains seemed just too damned insurmountable. Or worse, just how heinous and horrible moments had to happen, combined with pain and powerlessness until the simple word could be heard. ENOUGH!
From my perspective old wounds have never been healed in this nation, and often times misdiagnosed at the convenience of who had the keys to operating rooms. A gash may heal but that area of the body remains scared, less strong than it originally was. Compound wounds never reattach the way they once functioned. Torment and trauma remain and like ghosts, haunt the interiors of our bodies, a quiet but just as deadly ailment. I believe our American way of life has been altered, never to be the same again, but with three days left, I wonder what will this country look like…a monster, a clone or a semblance of ashes from a tree of life once sturdy and strong! Will we finally be able to say enough and try again!
