Dec 20, 2016

2016... Are we done yet?

What with the disastrous result of the election on November 8 and the slow yet inevitable socio-economic collapse in Venezuela, I am feeling rather dark. Two of the three countries I consider my own seem always to be breaking my heart.

My self-imposed news moratorium continues and I am not at all informed of what is going on. I know what is happening in Venezuela because my friends let me know through WhatsApp. I catch a glimpse of a ‘Presidential’ twitter meltdown, of a cabinet placement and I want to cry and look away.  I have no idea what is going on. I am not watching Trevor, Samantha or John, or even the more acerbic Bill.   I am avoiding SNL. I am not clicking on anything.

I saw a picture of the last Christmas card the Obamas will ever send as the First Family. I might have hugged my computer screen sobbing.

I have hidden myself in the silent and mindless joy of craft gift wrapping. I focus on the glitter and the brown paper and twine. Yes, my Christmas tree (named Hedwig this year) fell and broke two of our glass ornaments with mine and DH’s initials which felt somewhat prophetic or something but it’s now up and looking rather pretty.  

To put it mildly 2016 has been an interesting year. I got to fulfill a life-long dream of seeing Orcas in the wild. It is not lost in me how privileged I am to be able to travel unrestrained from one country to the other, stay in a floating home, see the whales, eat and drink and be marry. I returned from that trip back to Florida to the heartbreaking news of the mass shooting at Pulse in Orlando. I became a citizen, excited for the possibility of being part of this country and casting my vote, to find myself the future subject of a president elect who won by a system that makes no sense to the rest of the free world.

While I have never been the upbeat, blindly optimistic, cheery type, I have always ended every year of my life with a silent hope for something better and greater ahead. It was this knowledge of hope which kept me from spiraling into sadness when I spent my first New Year here in the country. Despite all the uncertainty ahead of me that New Years’ Eve 2003 I felt, mingled with the tears and sadness, a sense of wonder for what lay ahead.

I know that when my mom feels like I do, she places herself in the hands of her God and it offers her a blessed comfort. Nothing is in my hands, I place myself in yours. In your infinite wisdom, guide me. And all that.

Not even when I was a practicing Catholic did I have the personality to place myself fully in the hands of a superior power and let the chips fall where they may.

Part of me wishes now, I had the same escape route and solace.
What else is left for me to do than wait? What will 2017 bring? I have many plans for the year. Trips abroad with my best friend, visiting family in June, hopefully buying a house with a pool Zoey can enjoy. But what about the bigger things? The things outside my bubble? The ones I don’t want to care about but do? 

Maybe those I will put in the hands of…someone else. Maybe I will just be like the blind guy in Rogue One and just mutter to myself “I am one with the Force and the Force is with me” And walk into the fire and see what happens.