Each morning, when we get up, my husband and I look at each other and remark that growing old is not for sissies. An incident Tuesday proved it. We’d been at a son’s house for dinner, and when we came out onto his back deck, it was dark and drizzling. I missed a step, and went down hard on a brick walk, fracturing my pelvis and clavicle.
I’m posting this from the hospital, and it looks as if I’ll need a couple of weeks in a rehab facility before going home. It will heal and I’ll be fine–but it will take some time, and it requires juggling a lot of commitments and inconveniencing a lot of people. (If I miss a day or two of posting–which I hope won’t happen, but may–you’ll know why.)
When something like this happens, it not only interrupts the habits and daily flow of life, it also prompts some unwelcome thinking about growing older and the fragility of life. On the other hand, it’s a reminder of what’s really important–family, friends, and meaningful work.
But you can never entirely take the nerdiness out of someone who teaches public policy, so this was also an occasion to be grateful for good health insurance, and to wonder–once again–why efforts to extend that same peace of mind to others evokes so much resistance. A fall like mine could bankrupt someone without coverage–a missed step on a rainy night could mean loss of a home, savings, the ability to send a child to college.
Why would anyone fight to continue a system like that?
On Facebook a couple of days ago, someone posted a picture of a hat shaped like the one Donald Trump has been wearing–the one he emblazoned with “Make America Great Again.” This one, however, had a different and far better sentiment.
Make America Kind Again.