Saying Goodbye to 45

Dear Donald J. Trump,

As I write this I am in quarantine in my office at home. I have a comfortable daybed, a nice desk to write at and, of course, my laptop and all my books. What more could a girl like me want, am I right? Maybe a kiss from my daughter before she goes to sleep at night? Maybe the chance to sleep curled up next to my snoring husband? Maybe the chance to go to work so I can provide for my family? Unfortunately, those are things I cannot do at the moment at the risk of stopping my daughter from going back to in-school learning, or my husband from finishing the kitchen remodel he has been doing for an 80-year-old woman.

I had this entire letter written out last night and was proud of what had come out of me. I went to bed satisfied that I could cross another challenge off my list. Then I woke up this morning and read over what I had written and realized that instead of a letter to you, I had gone on an 800-word rant about the situation I find myself in now. Is it your fault? I want to say that yes, Mr. President, you are the reason I have to go get tested for COVID this afternoon. You are the reason I was exposed in the first place because some people have decided to not take it seriously. You are the reason I owed more in taxes last year. You are the reason I log out of social media for days at a time because I cannot handle seeing your name in the headlines or your face on my feed.

Yet, I must be honest with myself. Yes, you have done and said some questionable, even at times, scary things over the last four years. Yes, you put me through more stress, anxiety, anger, and confusion than any other politician in the history of my life, but in the end, I am responsible for my own life and how it plays out. Did I blame President Obama for any of the bad things I might have gone through while he was president? No. Bush Jr.? Maybe a little. Clinton? I was going through my teenage to early 20’s so the only thing I was worried about were boys and the next party. Bush Sr.? I mean, I voted for him in my elementary school mock election because I liked elephants over donkeys if that counts for anything. Which means, you Donald, are off the hook for the most part. What is done is done. Could it have gone better? Oh yes, by leaps and bounds.

Just because I feel I am unable to blame you for the things that are happening in my life right now, does not mean that other people can’t, though. People that have worked for you. People working the jobs no one else wants in this country. People from other countries moving here to escape violence. People with a different skin color than you. People in the LGBTQ community. People that work everyday for a better world, not just for themselves, but for the whole human race. These people can write all the 800-page letters of blame to you they want and maybe, just maybe, one of them would get through to you.

Maybe it’s my age or the experiences I have gone through. Maybe it’s the fact that I am now a wife and mother. In the end what matters to me is what I do with my life, not what you do with yours, and that brings me peace. Everyone must face the consequences of their actions whether it be during their life or after. And so, Mr. President, even though I am not the one to do it, I hope you get everything you have coming to you in the near future and beyond. You are slowly running out of people to blame for your own short comings and mistakes and I hope beyond hope that you find some time to finally look inside yourself and admit to the things you have done to others.

I will go high when you go low. I will forgive while you blame. I will admit fault when you cannot. I will do whatever I can to keep my family safe while you try and do everything you can to keep your family in the power you seem to think you need. I hope this year goes well for you and I hope you finally find some measure of peace, in whatever form that may be.

Sincerely,

Kris