Hope & the husband


The 4th of July. Every year my husband hangs our flag.  He never wavers with this appreciation of our democracy – despite all the years as an adult whether it was through the Vietnam era in our young adulthood with vociferous protests against the war and the immorality of Watergate, or the myriad slippery and evasive shenanigans during the Clinton era – he is an American. Does this mean he follows blindly? No. He is most certainly disputatious on every aspect of a political move by anyone. Facts. He is grounded in the facts. He is moral. He is fair. Oftimes, I wish he was THE president.


I, who could turn tail and run with outstreached arms through the maple-lined avenues of Canada today, stand in awe of him. His steadfastness is my beacon. It gives me hope.

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