Abundance reigns among the tea roses - so many blooms since I shared the first bud on Day 12. It’s hard not to feel optimistic, seeing the cheerful flowers at every stage of life - budding, peaking, waning, disappearing to make room for more. Life not only goes on. It triumphs.

Still, I woke up with a new emotion this morning, and I’m not sure it’s wise to express it here, out loud, beyond these walls. Anger. It’s not so much the photographs of people with Trump hats and guns surrounding the Minnesota governor’s residence that took me to this place, it was hearing the effect yesterday on my family and friends - those who’ve turned their lives upside down to protect themselves and their neighbors and to give the warriors on the front line at least a fighting chance. I heard sorrow, despair, and hurt in their voices. I heard fear. This morning I cannot picture how we get out of this, nor how we forgive those in power who facilitate and egg on the recklessness that threatens my family’s lives. Are we making progress? Are we in it together, as people keep telling us?

I take solace in the sight of my roses, I do, and the lessons they have to share. I love the memes of people doing good, expressing love, and making fun of difficult times. But I expect better from the so-called leaders who hold my children’s fate in their hands. I'm sorry, but I do.