Offering. Found on a bench on the trail.

Today, helping with Get Out the Vote text-banking, I received a response from a woman who has COVID-19. “It’s not looking good,” she said. She doesn’t expect to make it to the primary. I expressed sorrow over this, then fell through the trap door: in October 2016, my husband waited for his absentee ballot. He knew he had only a few days to live, and he wanted so much to cast his ballot for Hillary. The ballot arrived a few days after he died.

No one escapes loss. And most of us wonder at the miracle of our existence, our consciousness. Let’s honor that.

Take good care, everybody.