2. Scalia died. I cannot even bear to go into what this may mean, which leads me to...
3. My father has been telling me the same thing for decades now: take care of your own and let the rest of them go to hell. I get flack every time I say that, mostly from evangelicals who tell me that that is not what Christ would say. I think people are missing the point, though. Anyone who knows me (no - I mean *really* knows me, so probably two of you) knows that I don't just casually discard the world and care only about my family and their needs. What my grandfather and father are saying is to stop taking on the world's troubles. I internalize *everything*, much to my own detriment. I allow all that is going on in the world to bring me so low that I almost can't cope sometimes. Back in the day before social media, I would get into it with people in person and argue so passionately about, well, everything about which I felt passionate (in high school that would have been primarily abortion and the role of women in society and family). I would be miserable because I so wanted people to understand where I was coming from - why I felt the way I did and why I genuinely thought I was right - not right for the sake of being right, but (in that specific case) right because I cared about babies and (gasp!) about women. Guess how many people's minds I changed? I'm sure it was none. Guess how sick I made myself? Very.
Fast forward to the misery that is Facebook. Nothing has changed. People can't see my face, can't read my tone. Even people who know me in real life seem either to deliberately forget what they know of me or to intentionally misread me and my intentions. (This sounds like a pity trip - it's not. I promise, when I'm feeling sorry for myself, you'll know it. I'm exceedingly good at it.). Why on Earth would I try to engage anyone in civil discourse? I can think of two people on all of my FB who don't share my politics and religion to whom I can genuinely talk. But I don't, for various reasons.
So, back to the point. Letting the rest of them go to Hell doesn't mean not ministering to people in need. It doesn't mean that at all. It means not trying to solve the world's problems. It means not taking them on. It means that every generation's sky has fallen in one way or another, some more seriously than others. It means that nothing I say, do, or think about Scalia's death is going to change jack-sh*t. God help me, Trump may actually get the Republican nomination (although Henry assures me that can't happen), regardless of any hand wringing I do. On my home front, I have my own problems. They more than consume me. My job is to raise good Catholics and good citizens. I *can* affect (and effect) that. I'll try to put the rest in the hands of God and His Blessed Mother. There's really not a heck of a lot else I can do.
4. I got a job solicitation/expression of interest via Linked In. I ignored it. As much as I would love *another* part time job, I just can't.
5. Last week was my 41st birthday and 20th wedding anniversary. It all passed not with a bang but a whimper. We just don't have time for it right now. Maybe in the spring (or, more realistically, summer) we can go somewhere alone for a few days. I passed the mirror a few times this week and noted somewhat abstractedly that I am looking old. It's not that I care, it's more that it is interesting.
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