Yesterday I went horseback riding. We signed up for a 2 hour tour through the battlefields of Gettysburg. There's nothing better for soul searching than riding on a horse in the cool November air listening to our guide describe and point out the events that were happening on the days of July 1st, 2nd and 3rd, 1863. The weather was sunny and beautiful, and I was able to let things go.
You are supposed to picture yourself as a soldier, either Confederate or Union, or as a civilian, an unwilling participant in war. With everything going on with our country now, this outing could not have come at a better time.
I've been wrestling within myself (my "jihad" if you will, or "struggle"): upset over what has happened to decency and unity; horrified at the racists, so emboldened by this president-elect; terribly saddened that such a wonderful president as Obama (and no, I don't give him a sweeping pass, I disagreed with many of his policies, but it cannot be said that he didn't have class and grace, and brought a huge sense of decorum to the White House), would be replaced by someone with neither grace nor class. Clearly, money can buy many things, but class isn't one! People who otherwise seemed kind and thoughtful, have now come out of the woodwork to show their ugly side - celebrating the ability to insult and demean others because "their guy won" and PROUD to behave this way.
As I was riding in Gettysburg, all my inner turmoil seemed to float away as I thought of those soldiers and civilians. How brother fought brother, and father fought son, all because they believed so much in their "cause" they'd forgo blood ties and embrace hate. We're there again...families cutting out their relatives because of the way they voted: brother hating brother; parents disowning children and vice versa. But I couldn't help thinking of the carnage those fields saw, all the death and horror that remained in the minds of those who witnessed it, locked inside for decades until their last breath. As they stood on that battlefield, bloody and broken, was it worth it? Was that much death and destruction and irrevocable hurt worth it? No one REALLY won, even though one side did.
I used to butt heads a lot with my father. He was an old school guy and I was a teen in the 80's, but at the end, when he was very sick and we weren't sure what was going on or if he'd make it, all of the arguments, all of the times he made me mad, they were gone...all I could think of was how much I loved him, and I was so worried that I would lose him and he'd never know how much I loved him. And I did lose him. But I made sure to let him know through word and gesture that I loved him. And I hope he knew just how much. 💓
No one ever gets a "do-over" when someone dies. That's it, the end of their story, and everything you want to say after their gone will mean nothing, because they're not here for you to say it to. People so angry as to cut off their loved ones will, I'm afraid, be filled with nothing but regret if the day comes and their loved one dies without them having made peace with one another.
Just stop this madness. Try and LISTEN to each other and not talk AT each other. If someone is truly a hateful racist, don't engage them, but try and be kind no matter what, because you never know when some small gesture could be the thing that softens them. We HAVE GOT to come together, now more than ever, or this country as we know it is over.
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