It’s 5 o’clock on the morning after Election Day. I descend the stairs from the bedroom my husband and I share to the sound of heavy rain beating against our metal roof. Blue light from our big screen TV flickers in our living room, where my husband is sprawled out in his LazyBoy. He’s wearing his favorite Jerry Garcia boxers, drinking Higher Ground coffee, watching the election results. “You’re up early,” he says.
He takes a sip from his eighteen ounce, Steal-Your-Face mug. “You know, it’s not the end of the world, hon.”
Is he kidding! I’m thinking of spending the next four years curled up on the couch, watching cute pet videos because of it. “The guy from Celebrity Apprentice just became the most powerful person on the planet. Somehow, I feel like it might be.” The media keeps showing Hillary Clinton supporters crying. I guess they believe it might be, too. “We had an opportunity to elect a good, solid leader and a champion for climate change reform. Instead we picked Donald Trump.”
My husband snorts. “At least Vladimir Putin is happy.”
I go the kitchen, grab my favorite student-painted coffee mug and pour myself a cup. The mug feels warm inside my palms.
“That’s the last of the Higher Ground coffee, by the way,” my husband says.
After I’d blogged about how some coffee companies are destroying the rainforests, my husband said he’d consider switching from Eight O’clock to Higher Ground. “A subscription for two pounds per month for six months is $180.00,” I told him. “I’ll go ahead and place the order.”
“Well…” The doubt in his eyes feels like a kick to my stomach. He’d changed his mind. How could he!
My heart plummets further. I glance down at the dark brew inside my brightly painted mug. Even my coffee is making me feel hopeless today. “You said we could change brands if you liked the taste of the new coffee. Remember?” I’d ordered three different types from the eco-friendly roasting company. We liked the Birmingham Humane Society blend best. The fact that part of the proceeds go to the humane society is a big plus, too.
“I do. But…”
“I’m not giving up on my blog, my journey towards going green, and my dream of saving the planet.”
“I’m not saying you should.”
“No. You’re saying that it’s all fine as long as you don’t have to change anything.”
“Hey, don’t get mad at me just because Trump won.”
I try to hold back tears. Can’t. “I’m fighting really hard to believe that anything I do matters. ”
My husband comes over, wraps his thick arms around me. Until that moment, I hadn’t realized how much I really needed a hug. “But small changes can add up to something that matters,” he whispers. “Isn’t that what you say in your blog?”
“I really believe that, too.” Sniffle. “There are things we still have control over.”
“Like whether or not we buy our coffee from a planet-friendly company,” my husband says with a smile.
“Then that’s what we should do.”
Nuff said for now.