Politics can require living the worst moments of your life in public.
About a month ago, my husband John checked into Walter Reed to seek treatment for clinical depression. In an instant, our world—already closely monitored, highly scrutinized, and heavily trolled by right-wing extremists—exploded.
Media trucks circled our front yard. Our kids were home from school, hurting. So I did the first thing I could think to do: Packed them in the car and drove.
On the banks of Niagara Falls, we talked about flexibility, open hearts, and open minds. We talked about how joy, love, and fun can—and must—coexist with pain and heartbreak. We talked about doing scary things while remaining gentle with ourselves and with each other. We also talked about how incredibly brave their father's actions were.
I'm so glad we had that time together to process this difficult moment as a family. Especially because, while we didn't know it yet, another storm was brewing. |
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