2020 could be a textbook of its own. Everyday is an accumulation of more historical events, and it makes me sick watching the evening news.
The leader of our country incites violence and division. He defends white supremacy and encourages neo-facism. People of color are being gunned down in the streets by those sworn in to protect and serve.
A global pandemic has been going on for nearly a year now and we’ve got two sides of a broken system too stuck to their parties that they can’t put it aside and pass a suitable bill to offer some relief to its citizens. People are losing their homes and unable to feed their kids. They’re passing a $146 billion stimulus bill after offering no help for NINE MONTHS. What is $600 going to really do for someone that is months behind on rent?
I scroll my Facebook feed in disgust at the volume of people in support of a man that is misogynistic, disrespectful, fake, and bigoted. He holds a Bible up in front of a church for a photo-op and people believe that he is a religious man. In what ways does racism, narcissism, and dishonesty represent holiness?
Our country is divided and I don’t think we are near the end.
What happened?
Our politicians don’t work for us. They have their own agendas to fulfill. And believe you me, they don’t give a damn what it does to you and your family.
My aunt and uncle started renting a ranch-style brick country home the year I started sixth grade. I remember that because we moved in right at the start of the school year and my little boyfriend at the time lived down the road a few miles.
It was the kind of country vibe that our family fit well into. We road our bikes up and down the long gravel driveway from the house to the grain bins and back. We played kickball in the huge yard out front. I remember one season my uncle borrowed our school’s pitching machine and brought it out to the yard so he could shoot me some outfield fly balls. The athlete in me loved it.
This is the home I know better than any other. The home I’ve spent the most hours of my life in.
Us kids spent many nights sitting on our beds in the basement chatting, laughing, bickering…
It was the place our family was raised in. We developed and overcame and powered through so much together in that home and I’m sad that the house will one day be just a memory of a time when all of us were together.
You never know the power of a moment until it’s just a memory.
This was the house we had to bury our first dog at.
The house where I learned to drive and later got in trouble for breaking curfew.
I got ready for school dances and graduations in the tiny bathroom with my six siblings.
Most of my education was earned while studying in that house.
So many memories made under that roof…
My uncle has been living there for more than ten years. By now, he could paid off a house of his own, but instead he’s shoved tens of thousands of dollars into RENT.
I completely understand and support his decision, but it doesn’t make saying goodbye any easier.
We were all supposed to get together Saturday to celebrate our last holiday in the house. My uncle is leaving right after Christmas.
Of course….. Someone in the house tested positive- ruining our opportunity to reminisce in our home all together for the last time.
I’m heartbroken over it.
Goodbye, Home
This was all the land we got to play on. We would ride our backs down around the grain bins and back. We jumped in that pond and walked those fields. The best front yard for playing kickball!
I did go and cast my vote today. My anxiety is high waiting for today to be over. I’m sure we won’t know the real election results for a few days, which means the country’s tension is here to stay for a bit longer.
I hope I have more to add tomorrow, but today I just feel beat.
Between the Lens 