It Feels Like Death

My son is a dual citizen of Canada and the USA.  He’s not thrilled about being an American.

That should be enough right there to open eyes, but it won’t.

He doesn’t understand my pride in being American and I completely understand that.  I’m not really very proud of my country right now either.  He also doesn’t understand why I am in tears after watching the Senate vote to acquit the President of his horrific betrayal of the office.

I’m crying because I believe in right winning over wrong. I’m crying because I want to believe our leaders to do the right thing, even when it hurts.  I want to believe our Constitution was worth fighting for.  I want to believe that the America my ancestors fought for, that my family paid taxes to, that I hold so tightly to, still exists in some form.

It doesn’t.  My country is dead.  I mourn this loss like that of a cherished family member.  My dreams are dead, my hope is dead, and my faith in people is dead.  The pain is almost unbearable.

If I were a Republican, which I could never be because of a giant gap in beliefs, I would have to have voted to remove Trump from office.  I would have done so because I still have hope and faith in myself as a good American, and a good person.  It isn’t about party.  It’s about knowing an acting on what is right and wrong.  It’s about knowing I have to face my children and grandchildren and explain to them that the Senate vote I just watched was a scar on American history.  It is a day we got it horribly, horribly wrong.

My son got his voter registration card in the mail yesterday.  I was so happy, and so proud.  I’m certain that he will vote against Trump in November.  That is the last thread of hope I have-that my children and their generation can and will fix this.  I’m sorry we hand them such a horrific situation.  I did everything I could to prevent it.  My one vote, and the millions of votes who will join me, will begin repairing my country in November.