You are not alone

     It's been a while.  What have I missed?

    I have been thinking about my first return blog for some time.  Each day it changes with the events of that day.  I have been feeling so much outrage that I find it hard to pick just one thing to write about, and then I start to think that there isn't much point anyway.  Others are far better versed in the subtlties of world politics than I.  I should let them speak.  And, besides, what can one person do?

    One person can feel the outrage and express it.  He or she can scream out, "ICE is a government sponsored terrorist organization!"  We can ask how a five year old, or a two year old, or an 18 month old child can be hardened criminals targeted by an armed, masked body of quasi-Gestapo goons who have no respect for either the spirit or the letter of the law and will kill fellow Americans who get in their way.  

     One person can cry out to our neighbors to the north and our allies in Europe that the bullying and posturing of our President does not reflect our true sentiments.  "He too shall pass," we can say, hoping that somehow the world after Trump will somehow right itself and broken trust can be repaired.

    One person can hope and pray that Trump does not actually find a way to halt the mid-term elections later this year in order to hold onto control of the government.  That Trump's mania about naming everything in sight after himself finds this answer: "Mr. Trump, we will gladly put your name anywhere you want it to commemorate your life after you die.  We have the plaques ready to go, Sir.  After you."

    I have spent the last few months disheartened, anxious, afraid.  I have seen the writing on the wall, not because I can see the future but because I know the past, a past Donald Trump is trying to white-wash.  Worse than anything, I have felt alone.  But I'm not.  We number in the millions, perhaps billions.  Lorna Lovegood told Harry Potter that He Who Must Not Be Named wanted Harry to feel alone because it would be easier to control him.  Right now, we are watching Trump spiral out of control.  It does not feel good, but it feels right.

    When I was 2 years old, my parents immigrated to the United States.  One of the main motivating factors was their fear that there would be another land war in Europe.  After all, The Great War devastated the continent when my parents were children.  World War Two did it again, louder and bigger, when they were trying to raise a family of their own.  When they arrived at Ellis Island in 1952, my mother took a deep breath and said, "Now we are safe."  We have lost that sense of security.  We need it back.