From the Heart
Trepidation … a feeling of fear that causes you to hesitate because you think something bad or unpleasant is going to happen.
Oh, trepidation, I know you well.
It is how I look at November 4th. It’s not just about who gets the final winning count with ballots cast. That is giving me great anxiety.
This election will affect my grandchildren and their future. I hate what they are seeing and hearing. It’s so ugly.
Who knows how long it will take to count all the mail-in ballots? Who knows how long the arguments will last?
It’s the bickering I dread. It’s the possible riots. It’s the firestorm on Capitol Hill that will continue to burn.
Voter fraud. Interference. Hacking. Not since the hanging chads has it been so ugly.
Gone are the days of meeting in the aisle. Compromise seems like an impossibility. The hate is ugly. It is definitely not hidden. Politicians no longer play poker, I assume.
I have my sincere worries about who will be taking the oath. Honestly. My choices were neither to my liking. I’ve hated the bickering. I’ve hated the ugliness.
Don’t get me started on the commercials. I thought I’d never look forward to the commercials of lawyers and insurance companies and car dealerships.
As I watch the political commercials, I think, do they really think they will change someone’s mind?
Politics and religion are so personal. They divide family and friends.
I’ve never thought about color when it comes to choosing my friends. I will say that I have blue ones as well as red ones. If we differ on views, we don’t discuss them.
On Wednesday morning they will still be my friends. If they get too political, as they have in the past, there may be some whose friendship I will have to “snooze” for 30 days on Facebook.
I may take a break from social media for a while. I may find a few good Hallmark movies to watch. I need some “happily ever after.” Maybe I’ll watch some Lucy and Ethel. I’ll stay away from Leave it to Beaver.
I pray that we can get back to the America that I grew up in. We are just so far away from it.
My trepidation is real.