The Answer

     I stand with my computer in hand, screen propped up, balancing the bottom like a waitress. The charger, which Apple has managed to make as obnoxiously large as possible, is piled on my keyboard, along with my USB and phone.
“Come on Shaft!” He looks up at me from the couch with those pouty brown eyes. “Let’s go outside!” His tail begins to beat against the leather as he slides off nice and slow, picks his toy squirrel up from the carpet, and follows me to the door. Holy bejeezus it is cold. I think the weather gods like to get drunk right around this time of year. I can see them up there, glass of some mystical drink, “Hey Ed, let’s make it 40˚ tomorrow! That’ll throw these gripy bastards for a loop!”

     So here I sit at the kitchen counter, watching Amelie stare outside through the lowest pane of the back door. If you open it, she goes halfway out, and when she realizes you’re not going with her, she pauses, turns back around, and walks back in slow huff. And stares some more.
I started today with a bang, waking up with a call from Andrew, hopped right into applying for jobs and sending emails, and that’s when I came across an email from Grandad. In the email he quoted St. Stephen, and at the end, asks us all the have hope for humanity. I loved that phrasing. People constantly want to argue, “you’re wrong for thinking humanity is good, it’s mostly bad.” And then the counter argument  “Humanity is still good, there are some really bad humans out there, but as a whole, we’re alright.” Forget the argument. It’s not about all good or all bad. Have hope, whichever way you lean, have hope. To address each person you encounter with hope, that’s a strong, beautiful thing. To give them the occasion to rise up, that is the answer. 

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