My father died this Monday, January 13, 2025, one month shy of turning 92. The United States of America will die this Monday, January 20, 2025 at the age of 248.

I don’t write this to garner attention, opinions or rebuttal. I write this to be a marker in time. Like I always have. Like I always will. This is to serve as a digital missive in a bottle, even if it resembles a molotov cocktail.

I know that what I am writing here is the truth and I will not regret my words. I know I will not be embarrassed later for penning overreactive inaccuracies flung carelessly at the unsure and vulnerable like a jangling palm reader sitting at the end of a short pier.

I know that 90 million people chose not to vote in the most important election in our country’s history. That fact is catastrophic and history will confirm my punctuation. I know that very soon all of them will be chronically wincing and internally punching their ignorant/stubborn/lazy selves for doing nothing when they could have been a responsible American. I know that 77 million people voted for a convicted felon/rapist/racist/dictator-in-utero. I know that 75 million voted for the continuation of American democracy, equality, decency and the right to terror-free sleep. I was one of the 75 million, but that is obvious.

As a woman and the parent of another woman, I had assumed we would be safe here for the rest of our natural lives. I was wrong. I don’t like being wrong about something that should be right. I was excited to feel that women, minorities and the vulnerable would continue to be protected by the familiar embrace of existing laws and the continued assumption of human decency. I was wrong.

I know that what is about to happen will be sickening, evil and currently unfathomable to any of us. Nothing that happens after Monday is on me. I will never feel the regret of my vote. I did the right thing and so did 75 million other Americans.

I know what is going to happen and it will be inhumane, unimaginable and sleep-ripping; Every. Single. Day.

I know this like I know when it’s about to rain, or I am going to get a cold sore on my lip long before it makes a furious appearance.

When the “fuck around and find out” is raging, I will be drawing a bath and writing a new entry.

Good luck to us all. We will need it. My dad got out just in time.