Hi, it’s Tuesday. It’s relatively early now, and the midterms won’t end for a handful of hours, but I wanted you to know that I’m thinking of you.
I know, I know, we are all tomorrow, and we are always a day away. Annie nailed it. Wednesday just seems so full of finality, nothing personal. And yet, everything is personal, isn’t it, Wednesday?
I wonder what is decided tomorrow, if anything, in terms of terms and the politics of it all. I wonder if the results are in. Are concessions closed?
There were children in the polling place today. Every single one. They are the future, you know (the children I mean, but polling places, too). We’ve all heard the song. And yet, like us, they are also the now and living in it. We will all be the past soon enough. Some of us sooner than others.
The kids were holding onto hands of their parents and grandparents, uncles, aunts and siblings. Some just held to hope. Many seemed awed, others louder than strangers cared for, but aside from those fast sleeping, their eyes were open and seeing everything.
It’s good that they had a chance to witness democracy get its second wind. Or is it gasping for air? You tell me, Wednesday. I’m OK with spoilers. Seriously though, are things better where (when) you are?
I suppose that is the gist of my note, the purpose to my inquiry, I want to know if we’re going to be OK. I want to know what those kids were watching.
Perhaps I sound too defeatist. It’s just that I have been burned before. Remember my cousin from a couple of years ago? Talk about giving Tuesdays a bad name. Super, my figurative foot. I’ll admit, I’m nervous. There’s a lot riding on me today. I mean, have you been on social media?
The cusp of hope sounds so much more promising, and that will be the case whatever your report, Wednesday. Even if democracy takes another punch to the gut, hope will return upon the inhale. That’s something, I suppose. It may have to be.
I just don’t want to disappoint the kids, you see. That wouldn’t be right by today or any tomorrows. We don’t need more fodder filling stained calendars with past transgressions. We need something better than that, and most of us deserve it. The question then, Wednesday, is did we get it?
Midterms photo by Element5 Digital on Unsplash.