More Cheese, Less Sleaze
Being out of the States for more than a week has helped some with the weight I was carrying in my heart. When you’re not being soiled with the news of the regime and their band of flying monkeys in the Congress, and instead eating fresh bread and cheese every day, it is the reminder that there is life still happening in the world. There are still nice things to be had. And, in some places, the bull that passes for journalism in the U.S. these days is of little or no concern to others. They simply look upon us with pity and sorrow.
Don’t worry: I will be coming back. Neither of us have quit our jobs. In fact, I have been doing a little bit of work in between resting, reading, visiting, eating cheese, and sleeping. But only a little. And I have seen on Zuckerbook some of the news from Tallahassee and the States (good grief, FAMU!)
Not being there in Florida means that what I am seeing on social media doesn’t hit me in the same way. It feels like it’s…well…oceans apart.
Still, dear friends, you are not alone in your rage, disgust, and even depression (yes, you can admit feeling depressed. But if it starts to feel as if you’re falling into a black hole, please call or text your friends). I am not as easily reached at the moment (I left the phone at home) but I am able to see some messages on my iPad, especially when it’s the middle of the night on the East Coast. I will answer you and remind you that your existence matters.
We’re going to get through this, and it will take each of us holding each other, literally and figuratively, to make it to the other side of this horror show.
Jesus made the promise to be with us to the end of the age. I am making that same commitment to my siblings in this struggle.
Eat some cheese. Drink some wine. And know that I love you as a friend.
This was almost as good as a hug.