At times when the news is this bad, this infuriating, I have to distance myself. I'm too angry, and to prevent this space from becoming a string of swear words and fantasies of revenge, I will leave the plans of action to people with the wherewithal to carry them out, for better or worse. Suffice it to say, I am upset, but neither terrified nor sad, and I bristle at pundits using terms like those. I only feel rage. Pure, white-hot rage.
I focused on who and what is important to my small corner of the world. I cleaned house. I babysat my beautiful girl. I picked up my husband from the airport. Now I'm sore, from driving for hours and from sitting on the floor sorting out a bunch of novels (30 of them) that I'll never read again to donate.
I don't know how, when, or by whom it will be established, but when the "auntie network" comes into existence, I plan to offer up my guest room as a safe space. It is the only concrete thing I know I can do to fight back against today's scotus abomination. We passed people protesting on Main Street when we came back to town, and I appreciate them, but my body doesn't allow for that anymore. I can do one thing well, and that is assume the role of mom/grandma/auntie/big sister/someone who will give a stranger a place to rest where it is safe. If I am needed, I volunteer my services.
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