On my way to work the other day, I locked eyes with a doe who was stuck on the side of the highway. She was caught between 4 lanes of traffic (soon to be 6 or 8...I've lost track) and the ominous concrete sound walls that flank the adjacent neighborhood. I felt her fear in the second it took to pass her. It was palpable. She had nowhere to go. It was heartbreaking.
I no sooner settled in at work when Alan got a call that his wife hit a deer, or was hit by a deer. It ran into the side of her car. She watched her die. I cannot unsee my deer, or her deer. I cannot shake the feeling that they are harbingers of something heavy.
Heavy it is. My head, my heart, my spirit. The air. It's stagnant. Our walks the past couple nights have been battling through the thick of something oppressive, and yet getting out is never a regret.
Even if it means that I have to take two showers in one day, or do more laundry, or sit down for dinner at an hour some people consider bedtime. It was homemade pizzas last night. A pie for each of us. It's the way that everyone can have exactly what they want and leftovers too except for Ted who can polish his off STAT. We ate in front of the tv so we could watch The Firm. The kids hadn't seen it. I saw it once and I remember it being more captivating. I think that just speaks to how far we push limits now...more violence, sex, drama...faster, bigger, badder.
Speaking of boundaries, what about the dividing lines we as a country have created? We have a president who has clearly been in steady decline his entire term, first being hidden by supporters and the media and now castigated with indignation by the very same players. This is all being aired out on the world stage. It's like a SNL sketch, only it's not remotely funny. It's sad and disgusting and terrifying. All of this steps beyond the realm of political party divides. This is THE threat to our democracy. The 46th president has been a Manchurian candidate under the control of the deep state.
And I want to say I told you so, but there's no gravitas in watching the country I love go to shambles.
The fourth didn't have the effect on me it usually does. I usually leave the beach all kumbaya America, but I'm not being dramatic when I say that the scene reminded me of a scene from you name the war...the beach. Normandy, Omaha, Utah. My nerves had nerves.
It was the kind of night without a horizon. There was no visible reach or moon as marker. The smoke from the fireworks clung to the dewy air. The Fog meets The Longest Day meets some kind of survivor apocalypse. Can you see it? The shadow silhouettes on the shore, the glow of bonfires up and down the beach, no stars in the sky. It wasn't glory. It was guts. Though without guts...what do we have?
No comments:
Post a Comment