Soaking

I found this frog immersed in the part of the railing at the top of the stairs that always fills with water after the rain. A perfect little hideaway. 

What Changed

I come from a politically divided family. It’s just about split down the middle between liberals and conservatives, it always has been. I used to think it made me more tolerant. I was always around people who disagreed with me. I had to love them anyway.  

I had the luxury of largely avoiding the subject in my youth, but things slowly began to change in high school. My friend Chris started the Gay Straight Alliance. I supported the cause along with several other friends, but there was pushback. Chris surely took the brunt of it, and I greatly admired his bravery because he felt he could not come out to his father at the time. I was touched that he wanted to help others even though he struggled with support in his own personal life. 

My senior year was also when 9/11 occurred. I remembered the mix of panic, horror and confusion that overcame many Americans. There hadn’t been a foreign attack on American soil since Pearl Harbor, and think it shattered the safe little bubble so many of us thought we were in. And a lot of what should have been unity got turned into mistrust and hatred towards Muslim communities. I saw the ugly side of patriotism. 

I grew up thinking wars and the civil rights issues were behind us. But I saw first hand that wasn’t the case. I was proud when Obama was elected because I felt like we were moving in the right direction again. 

And then experienced the profound backslide with Trump. 

My father, ever the skeptical realist, has a favorite quote when it comes to politics: “What changes?”. It’s something that he likes to say to remind you that little about your personal life is effected from administration to administration. And honestly, most of the time he is right. But he said it to me again a while ago and I’ve been thinking. A lot has changed.

I remember going to bed early on the election night in 2016, assuming that the only obvious outcome was that Hilary Clinton would win. I voted for her although I wasn’t thrilled with my choices. I thought a Trump presidency was absurd. I remember waking up to the news in disbelief, but more than that I remember two of my LGBTQ friends heartbreaking post on Facebook about how vulnerable they felt. It was the start of that painful realization from high school creeping back in again. 

Over the past four years I’ve watched his unbridled misogyny and ignorance everyday. The disregard for those most in need, the brutal mistreatment of immigrants, the stripping away of healthcare and protections for the LGBTQ community, the insane Muslim ban and continued disregard for the Black Lives Matter movement. My friends. He was deliberately hurting those I cared for. It made me furious. 

I donated to the American Civil Liberties Union. I wrote every goddamn representative I have multiple times. I consumed information about the racial inequalities rampant in my country. Things I am embarrassed to admit I did not know. Things I was never taught in school. 

I cried a lot. Cried for the suffering I was ignorant of and had gone on for so long. I cried over the resurgence of white supremacy. Cried over leaders who did nothing. Trapped in my home due to the gross mishandling of the pandemic with horrific police brutality breaking out all over the country. 

The lack of comfort has been one of the most obvious and persistent things I’ve had to adapt to. Not being able to visit or hug friends has been tremendously difficult. Often in the past four years I’ve found I’ve relied heavily on the affection from the children of my best friends. I miss them terribly. Even the simple reassurance of meeting up with the fencers at Gators or the carefree nights of Swing Dancing. I miss the comforts of my favorite activities and my favorite people. I miss the things that made me feel whole. 

The divide within my family seems to have only grow wider. The conservatives have dug their heels in and committed fully to racism and bullying. I’ve had so many difficult conversations but my compassion is treated as weakness and my education is viewed as a bias. I’m not ever going to let anyone make me feel bad for protecting my friends and equal rights. I keep having to remind them that we too are recent immigrants to America. 

The death of Ruth Badger Ginsburg was particularly heartbreaking. She was a fighter to the end and she lead a truly remarkable life. She made it possible to have a job without being discriminated on the basis of gender, to have a bank account without a male co-signer, and to have a mortgage without a man. All things that have had a monumental impact on me. I am grateful I have control over my own path. It is astonishing to think how different my life could have been. This is why it is so important to fight for equality.

So many mourned her not just for her legacy but what horrors could occur in her absence. That burden should have never been placed on her but it was. So many people shouldn’t fear for their rights because she was the only one who would have protected them. We should never be at a point where we are removing peoples rights. That is the sign of a country in decline. 

I missed how happy my friends were when they felt protected. I miss having the Post Office run smoothly, I miss when this country was proud to be a melting pot. I miss having leaders who believe in science. I miss having the freedom to travel. I miss being able to hold my loved ones. I miss sleeping peacefully.

A lot had changed.

I’m burned out and exhausted from fighting for every little thing. From fighting my own family. From trying to be strong all the time. I want so badly for us to come out of this better than what we were. Please keep fighting. 

Leaving the Mountains

 

Last breakfast in Gatlinburg was decadent chocolate chip pancakes with bananas and whipped cream. 

We stopped for dinner in Bella Napoli in Savannah, Ga.

And we couldn’t resist getting the lemon custard at Leopold’s Ice Cream. The recipe has been unchanged since 1919. 

The Flowers Of Gatlinburg

 

We spent our last few hours in Gatlinburg on the strip. I was enamored with all the lovely flowers.

The Gatlinburg Trail

The lovely downtown flowers on our way to get breakfast.

Once in the Great Smoky Mountains National Park we pulled into one of the stops that had a short path down to the river. Someone had left some beautiful rock art. 

Luna Moth wing.

The rock separating two streams right before they meet.

Photo by Teresa Kasper.

Mini pinecones.

Stunning jewel toned bee.

Converging wave patterns.