By Grace Cangemi
I was standing in the Barry Goldwater Terminal waiting to board a plane out of Phoenix when I heard the news. After 8 days away from all things political, happily traversing a Red State, my first contact with reality was as upsetting as it was ironic.
I thought that if this mess of a health care plan passed, I would be infuriated – angry and bitter beyond belief. Instead, I found myself feeling apologetic. I’m sorry.
I have no children. Aware that I will have no one to care for me in my dotage, should I be fortunate enough to achieve it, I have always known that I need to provide for myself in such a manner that when I reached the twilight years, I’d be the one paying to keep the lights on.
My parents would never have mortgaged my future to take care of themselves. They would have fought like hell to keep anyone else from putting such a burden on me. And now, it appears, I am being set up to be a burden to someone else’s children. And all I can say is “I’m sorry.”
We fought hard for these children. We tried to lay no further weight on their tiny shoulders. And we failed.
We lost this battle before it started. We lost when we started to think of the Government as some entity that was bigger than us, when we railed against Government as though Government isn’t WE THE PEOPLE.
I know the arguments – this health care bill will cost me. It will reduce services. I will likely get worse care under this bill. But those are not the issues that are on my mind right now.
Right now, I am so very sorry. To every little kid who may someday be forced to pick up one thin cent of my care, I apologize. It was never my intention to burden you. And if, someday, you stand up and refuse (and I hope you do), know that I, for one, applaud you.