Before the March

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It's a wet green gloomy day and I'm heading to LAX in a few hours for the first leg of my journey to a different reality. Washington, D.C., here I come. I am filled with trepidation, fervor, heartache, anxiety, dismay, skepticism...but somewhere at the bottom of the pile there is still a faint residue of hope. Maybe the hope will shine more brightly when we are all marching together for everything we hold dear that is now at risk. Maybe I'll come home exhausted but inspired.

Life has its ways of humbling us, but I've slung my rags of hope and good intentions about my shoulders and I'm trying to move forward. I'll be carrying the spirit of my sister in my heart, and my daughter, and dear friends...and strong women everywhere.

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