The Paradox
Dealing with death
Ben has been gone for 26 weeks. It feels like a day. It feels like ten years. It feels like forever.
Part of me is relieved that he’s not here to witness the death of democracy in his adopted country.
My selfish side wishes he were here to help me navigate the destruction of my country.
In 2016, he told me:
In our countries (meaning Latin American countries), we never expected our governments to do anything for the common people. We knew only the wealthy and powerful would prosper. If, by chance, our government did something good for the regular people, we were surprised and grateful, but we never expected anything more. I think that’s where America is now. The government is not for the people. We can’t expect anything good.
As pessimistic as that may have seemed, it was rawly realistic. We barely survived the next four years, had four good years, and now we have regressed to where we were in 2016. If Ben were here, he would still be rawly realistic. He wouldn’t sugarcoat how another four years under the orange menace will be. He would be resigned, and he would say:
I’m going to live my life as long as it lasts. I have you, I have our pets, I have our house. That’s all I need.
