There is much to reflect on these days. The potential of hope and love. The potential of pessimism and hate. We know in part and we prophesy in part. We are sensitive.

As a former fellow radio news colleague noted, “This frosts my ass!”  Still, we are willing to bet the farm on hope and love.

To our credit, we older folks of a certain ilk embody the best and worst of America’s history. We know in part and we project in part thinking our narrow focus on “peace, love, and understanding,” would be enough, while we ignored or were not privy to, in our daily lives, the systemic suffering that now is uncomfortably laid bare.

And, the bridge to our future is complicated, as we prepare to hand it off to our children, our grandchildren, and their children. We said of our children, “We are proud of you, your values, and the lessons you will carry forward.” Others said the same, but in different words in support of different values, different lessons, and unrequited grievances.

Grievance and grievances seem to be our lot, with an underlying resentment that others just don’t understand our hopes and fears. The masks we wear do not only stave off death, they stave off understanding and compassion. We are now asked, we are now challenged, to smile with our eyes and nurture “peace, love, and understanding” in our words and tone.