A woman named Cindy posted this comment in a discussion I sometimes follow:
I’ve cried for a long time. I cried when I hit 50 and realized that my partner and I would probably never have a legal relationship…. in the United States, anyway. Tears multiplied when my first grandson was born, seeing the world George Bush was creating for him. I briefly stopped when Obama won the election, feeling some hope for the first time in decades. But then the joy of that was severely tempered by the Prop 8 results in California. My heart did leap for joy when Obama was inaugurated, but then…. fears about a crazy person with a gun, My second grandson was born, but then Obama’s own lack of follow through on his promises to the LGBT community, his lack of taking a firm stand & providing direction during the health care fight, and now….. the loss of the 60 seat majority to pure Democratic party incompetence and the SCOTUS ruling on campaign financing. Well, it kind of felt like the wrong time to bring an innocent life into the mess this country has become. And then there’s Haiti. Well, at least Americans are answering the call in Haiti. But, as to having the “audacity of hope.” Not far from my home, flying high on a massive flag pole and illuminated at night, is a Confederate battle flag that is owned and flown by “Sons Of Confederate War Veterans.” Yes, the Tampa, Florida version of the group South Carolina Congressman Joe “You Lie” Wilson belongs to. Hope? Not for a long time. Not for a very very long time. I cry a lot.
I found myself replying . . .
I hope you know you are nowhere near alone in what you feel about everything on your list (and more). These are rough, rough times, and many of us over 50 are damned tired. Sometimes a good cry is in order – – also throwing things (unbreakable, maybe pillows) and generally stomping about and denouncing the viciousness, cruelty, and frightening stupidity we encounter out there. Then, after a while, a big hug, some healing music and back into the fray. What other choice do we have? (And that question makes me cry.)
I was sick recently, and while lying in bed for over a week, I gained a perspective I hope I can keep. I often felt deeply depressed about the way the world is going, but I realized that hope is like confidence: sometimes you have to pretend you have it, keeping a vision in your mind of how you wish things could be. I think this is the Great Struggle — people with good ideas and good hearts can’t give up, even though they’re smart enough to see the harsh reality of the situation. They just have to put the blinders on and keep moving!