Life is Hard

Life is hard right now. To be very clear, it is not currently hard for me personally. We are all working, we are all privileged and safe and healthy. Since Ted and Maya are working from home, so there are no commuting costs, we’re probably coming out a little ahead, financially. At least for now.

But my heart is broken. The murder of George Floyd, on top of everything else, on top of the pandemic and a tanked economy and our shit for brains asshole President, it’s too much. I talked to my sister last week, before the news of Mr. Floyd’s murder, and she said, if we can only win in November, I can make it through this. Now there’s one more really painful thing to think about and keep us up at night. Now I worry that it’s all too much.

Like us, she and her husband are both employed. They are both healthy. But there is so much bad news, so much pain and sorrow and ache, that it beats you down. And when things get rough like this, you want to come together and commiserate. Which we can do, virtually, via phone or Zoom or whatever. I shouldn’t complain.

But we can’t come together for a big hug, which is what I want. Ever since our other sister was diagnosed with cancer last summer, all I have wanted is to go to Portland and give her a big hug. And I didn’t, because I wanted to respect her needs, her family, what she needed to get through treatment, which was to not see people. She didn’t even have the energy to talk on the phone most days.

So we were going to go up to Portland in late June, drive out to the Oregon coast and scatter my father’s ashes. That’s cancelled. The kids (4 kids between my 2 sisters) are involved in sports and dance and music, all cancelled. It’s hard. Our vacation to Vancouver and Victoria, cancelled. I’m disappointed.

Which of course is whining. There is so much more going on right now. People are dying from this damn virus, people are losing their livelihood, due to this damn virus and the way our stupid government has handled it.

People are evil shitheads and our streets are burning. As I’m writing this, I hear helicopters overhead, there is looting downtown in my town and the one next door. People are murdered in our streets by the first responders who have vowed to help them. People have lost all hope and are out in the streets, speaking loudly, breaking quarantine, spreading the damn virus, speaking up against oppression, trying to be heard. It’s hard.

George Floyd’s tragic death reminded me of how priviledged I am. He was arrested (murdered) for allegedly using counterfeit money at a convenience store. I was given counterfeit money as change from the grocery store once, years ago, and I gave it to my coworker as my share of our group lunch that day. That night, she went out to dinner and tried to use it, and the restaurant refused it as counterfeit. She was embarrassed, and brought it back to me. I brought it back to the grocery store, and they apologized and replaced it with valid money. Know who wasn’t killed or arrested or even questioned about it? Me. Nor my coworker.

That’s white privilege. That’s serious bullshit.

Life is hard.