Last night, frightened and anxiously seeking security, I wrapped myself in my fuzzy blanket, snuggled up to my husband, and struggled through a night of fitful sleep.
This morning, I woke in the quiet of a new day, perhaps a new moment in history. As I so often do, I snapped a photo of the sunrise. The buildings, the sky, the air, it all looked blue as dawn broke somewhere in the distant grey horizon.
But there was a little light, just some streaks of pink and peach, peeking from the underside of the clouds.
Not exactly a silver lining, but I’ll take it.
As much as I’d like to stay wrapped in my blanket weeping for an uncertain tomorrow, I have dried my tears. I will not concede to the dark madness. This is a new day; there is too much work to be done.