I drove up to the Skagit today to visit my mom in her new place. Going north on I-5, we approached an overpass, with a chain link fence. My eyes drifted to the one word someone had woven into the steel: HOPE. The lettering was crooked. But it stood out against a caged sky.
If they looked up, all drivers could see it. Couldn’t photograph it. Because you’re barreling up the highway doing 65 or 70. It made me smile.
Of course it conjures Obama. Of course it brings up the resistance of now. That one simple word reminded me: we are all human. We all feel hope. We all live through despair. We all overcome. We sometimes utterly fail. But there is always hope. In unexpected places.
Driving south after our visit, I wasn’t expecting anything else related to HOPE. What I do, in my day-to-day, is try to keep my own fire burning. Optimism and peace are things I go for. In the past, I’ve done the opposite. I’ve lived my roiling years. But that way destroys me.
On the same fence, somewhere around Lynnwood, the same person had woven the words INFINITE HOPE. I smiled.Going north, HOPE. Going south, INFINITE HOPE.
Today, my sister, sister-in-law, nephew, our babysitter and a bunch of people we know marched in NYC, DC, Seattle & Bellingham. I know turnouts were huge and that makes me so happy.
We are a united people, and I feel so reassured.