My husband left this morning for Spain. First stop, Madrid. I wish I were going with him.
Things are good, for the most part, in my world. I have a roof over my head. I have food to eat, clothes to wear.
In all likelihood, I am never going to be directly affected by the detainee bill. It’s a pretty safe bet — I’m a stay at home mom, why would anyone go after me? — that I’ll never be getting a knock on the door. I will probably never be tossed into dark cell with no hope of challenging my imprisonment. Which makes it all the more important to fight it: justice is the responsibility of all of us.
I do have resources, emotional and otherwise. I need to draw on them, and see how I can help others.
I need to see Guernica. Yes, it’s a vision of just how evil mankind can be, but I need to see it for another reason. I need to remember that, for all the horrible atrocities humans can inflict upon each other, all is not lost; no regime lasts forever; the fascists, who were responsible for calling in the Nazis to bomb the town, eventually lost power. It is far too easy for me, given my rather melodramatic nature, to get stuck in the present and not step back and look at the big picture.
There is always hope.