I hadn’t had time to read the Sunday paper this morning; we got to church late and slipped in the back door. We didn’t even have time to glance at the order of worship when the choir stood up and went to the piano.
Our music director began the first chords of “The Star Spangled Banner” and a soloist soprano sang out the first words- “Oh, say can you see, by the dawn’s early light…”
The choir joined in. The arrangement was slow, and thoughtful. I heard each word of our national anthem liked I had never listened before. There were moments my shoulders shook, and my throat choked- how has our proud nation with our flag, “whose bright stripes and bright stars/Through the perilous fight/O’er the ramparts we watched/Were so gallantly streaming’ come to where we are today, Sunday, October 27th, 2024?
(In case you’re wondering, as I just was, a rampart is defined as the wall of a city or a castle. I’m not sure which in this context, but I’m really not that well versed in history, American or otherwise.)
The Star Spangled Banner is a joyful, victorious, slightly boastful song, of unity, victory, and hope.
We are not there right now. We are fractured.
I hope we are on the way.
I pray Kamala wins and, I believe if that happens, the healing will begin, (after the inevitable whining, recounts, and I don’t even want to go there, here,).
But if she does not, and this is a possibility, we can not simply bow our heads and walk away. If Trump becomes President, we have to fight harder. I know the face of Project 2025 scares the hell out of me, but we are not a nation of people that wrings our hands and gives up. We’ve faltered, as a nation before. We have faced worthy adversaries, internal and external adversaries, and we are still, I believe, contenders, a nation capable of striving towards greatness, and maybe, someday, achieving it.
Either way, we have a lot of work to do. Our country is broken in more ways Democrat versus MAGA Republican. It was built on the blood of native Americans and slavery. I could go on, but I won’t. This is not about looking backwards.
For the past fifty years, some amazing men and women have been working to build a nation where the lyrics of – “This Land Is Your Land, This Land is Our Land” ring true.
We are a country of amazing resources and strength. We are a country that is part of a world in crisis. The biggest thing we have going for our future is us. All of us.
Regardless, of who wins on Election Day, there is a lot of work to be done.
I don’t think Canada has room for us anyway.
Pandemic Halloween
November 1, 2020
On Facebook, members of my New England community have squabbled over whether we should cancel Halloween. People posted ways to make it safe, people argued there was no way to make it safe. People with small children asked for addresses were families were giving out candy, people with large children reminded each other the numbers are climbing. More than once, parents were strongly advised to stay home with teenagers to watch Hocus Pocus while sipping juice boxes. Or bake.
Katy, my seventeen year old, doesn’t like Hocus Pocus. She has a boyfriend, and about five friends she’s spent time with since June. So I negotiated with her to host a Halloween party outside with, (I don’t want to use the word pod,) her people. They decided to dress up as characters in “Among Us,” a game they play on their phones. The characters look like spacemen, and it is free. That is all I know.
Then there was snow. Our table was broken by a run away umbrella, our backyard was as muddy as spring. We thought about cancelling because we’d have to move it indoors, and we didn’t. These kids had been inside our house a week ago making their costumes.
Rachel made caramel apples and I burned my finger tasting, just like I did forty years ago. Her mom brought mountains of naked wings so that Jared, whose allergic to dairy products, could eat them- her primary ingredient in buffalo wings is butter and I wouldn’t let her leave until she promised to make some for me next week. The kids ate wings, mountains of nachos, pizza and brownies. Jared was happy we had coconut ice cream, because naked wings alone for dinner is kind of sad.
Raphael, Katy’s boyfriend, took a nap; he’s exhausted from rowing crew, zoom, and life. They watched movies, and had meaningful conversations when they weren’t arguing over whose playlist was best, and played Cards Against Humanity.
They made Lisa and I go Abby Park for dinner, so this is what Katy told me after everyone left at ten.
We were cleaning the kitchen, and “Blue Moon Revisited” by the Cowboy Junkies came on my radio station, 92.5 The River. I told Katy to stop what she was doing, (she wasn’t doing much, mostly offering moral support,) and just listen. We stood there, while the sad voice of Margot Timmons spilled out of the radio. When melody of the original “Blue Moon” crept in, Katy sighed. I loved that album in the eighties, and I tried to make at least twenty people listen to that song. Katy, on this pandemic Halloween, might have been the first one who did. She added it to her playlist, and felt a small tear.
Afterwards, we sat in the living room, and talked- about Raphael, her friends and first kisses, the baby she’s taking care of today, the kalimba she’s learning to play, daylight savings time, and whether she misses her brother, Colin. We talked about whether I miss Colin, and to be honest, that answer is different right now than it was last night.
It was not the spookiest of Halloweens. For the most part, we were with the people we are closest to, friends who do not surprise us, but know us well and love us anyway.
This year’s Halloween was a respite from the fear of 2020. Over the next few days, the goblins and gremlins will do their work.
Please vote.
julierichmond 