A Rough Week
I confess. This has been a rough week on many levels.
First, the election. I know. We’re all sick of hearing about
it, so I’ll be brief. It didn’t go the way I’d hoped. Losing an election is
nothing new to me. Not my first rodeo. But this is the first time the loss has
left me sick and terrified. Beyond that, all I’m going to say right now is I’m
working on some ways to do what I can to make this angry world safer for those
who now find they have targets on their backs simply because they’re different.
Or because we’re women.
More on that another time.
Secondly, I’ve had my mom admitted to hospice care. While
that term sounds scary, I think it’s going to be one of the best moves I’ve
ever made. The team is fabulous. I’ve met or spoken with all of them. They’re
as determined as I am to keep Mom comfortable and to give her as much quality
of life as possible under the circumstances. Still, it’s one of those steps
that make me get in my car, sit behind the wheel, and cry.
Thirdly, on Thursday my corner of the world was rocked with
what has become all too common. Two of our brave men in blue were gunned down
performing their duty, trying to come to the aid of a terrified pregnant woman
whose husband had threatened to kill her and their unborn child. In spite of
her Protection From Abuse order, he succeeded. All of this happened within
twelve miles of my home.
I’m not a cop. But I have many many friends in law
enforcement, and having worked on an ambulance crew, I’ve been out there. I
know writing a character who’s a small town cop isn’t the same as being one,
but this feels incredibly personal. Plus I do know some of the slain officer’s
family and we share many mutual friends. My heart aches for them.
Thursday afternoon, as the sun was setting, I took flowers
to the Canonsburg Police Department and placed them with the other offerings. I
stood and wept and listened as those around me spoke softly and reverently
about the officers.
Yes, it’s been a rough week. For me.
For my county.
For the nation.
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Gwyn