Feeling our way along

Take my hand, rest your head on my shoulder.

cDetail from “The Kiss,” Rodin

Tuesday night Richard went to bed before the results of the election were confirmed. I stayed up, and as a gray cloud moved over me, I tried to imagine going on. The first four years of Trump were more “kill me now” and “get me out of this” than even high school. I wrote something to steady myself and posted it on social me…