By David Fortier
Come Sunday morning, the Memorial Day weekend will be in full swing. At the same time, I am thinking, the crazy weather maybe sending us a message, that the cosmos maybe telling us something akin to this: steady, slow and steady wins the race, especially we have made such progress against the pandemic.
The infection rate for COVID has dropped to levels from early last summer. Mask mandates are being pulled back—not all the way, but in many situations (as a high school teacher, we are all still wearing masks). And this means we need to continue to be discerning, sensitive to the welcome changes, as well as what is necessary to keep moving ahead.
And so Memorial Day, when we honor those who have fought our wars and protected our way of life; and also the day many of us honor those who came before us and helped make our lives today possible. No parade this year, but churches will have masses and services. Many of us will pause to remember.
Mary and her brother will have planted flowers at the gravesites of family members. Her brother, a special needs person, doesn’t get out much but Mary tries to come up with events to get him out and around. Memorial Day is a natural, to memorialize family members at several area cemeteries, grab something to eat—always part of family events—and catch up a bit, that is until next time.
Closer to home, I have been waiting for the rhododendron that graces our front yard to blossoming. Mary figures the plant is almost 100 years old. I rely on her knowledge since she is well versed in all the planted things in our yard, being the one who does the landscaping, planting, trimming, laying down mulch. What she doesn’t do herself, she recruits the oldest to help out with, or last resort, she gets me involved. (Note: I actually enjoy yardwork, especially mowing the lawn, pruning the apple tree, and when it is a thing which it is not this year, tending the vegetable garden.)
Of all the planted things in our yard, the one I am most fond of is the rhododendron. I love how it shades the porch, stays green all year, and blossoms in the spring. Each year I wait for it to blossom and take a photo that I text to the family group.
Before the rains came this week, I was watching as the blossoms, beginning from the bottom, began to bud and then open: lower half, three quarters of the way up, seven-eighths, and then the cold and rain. And still the blossoms keep coming. I am hoping that the blossoms will hold until the sun comes out Tuesday and I can get that photo.
While I am partial to this particular rhododendron, I do notice others, especially, the ones on the corner of Goodwin and Queen streets. They are simply magnificent, already in full blossom, so totally committed to blossoming that the last time I looked, the blossoms had taken over completely shutting out the green leaves. Incredible—just one magic poof of rhododendron purple blossoming.
And so now the cold and wet are here. But I am not complaining. Complaining is over. Things are what they are, and we are who we are, and things are looking up, and weather, well, weather comes with the territory—it is New England, after all, which is always weather glitchy. Add to this that we are in the grip of climate change, with its strange configurations, 90 degrees one day and 50 the next, with more of those extreme weather events knocking at the windows and pounding away all around us regularly, and welcome to the new normal.
We do what can to limit our carbon footprint. As individuals, we can only do so much. Collectively, we become a force for good.
Apparently, however, the new normal extends beyond the weather. This is a municipal election year and campaigns are beginning to pick up with Republicans and Democrats getting around to announcing their slates. TBE will be following developments throughout the year in our news pages, but I could not help mentioning this one issue here. (A story on the issue will appear tomorrow.)
In as bizarre a political move as I can remember—this is on the local level not the national level–the Republicans town committee chair, who announced his candidacy for mayor, is parading a theory that the Democrats tried to overturn the will of the people, when they have been tasked with correcting a kafuffle from a previous referendum, and that the Republicans stopped the insurrection.
Maybe calling it a kafuffle—the original problem with the term limits is that the ones introducing it on the ballot missed one huge detail: the state legislature is the one tasked by our state constitution to deal with them–is taking things too lightly.
The Republican ruse? Again, the Dems are trying to overturn the will of the people by illegitimatizing a 2013 vote for term limits. The truth? Again, the 2013 vote was conducted without proper consultation of state statutes which prohibit towns and cities from passing term limits. A special act of the legislature is required, and Bristol did not and does not have one.
The problem? If people bite, then the Republicans have created something from nothing. If they don’t, the Republicans will have to come up with more substantive issues, or at least real ones, to run on. As it stands, this fantasy is pretty flimsy ground for a political campaign.
In the end, the Republicans, rather than being good neighbors and worthy opponents and helping iron out the issue, have chosen disruption and misdirection.
Some among our critics will say that it is unfortunate that I have taken up this issue because it betrays a bias against the Republicans. I assure you, if the Democrats took such a disingenuous and specious position, I would be among the first to call them out.
Be well and enjoy your week.
“Come Sunday morning” is intended to be a weekly review, a recounting of the past week and an anticipation of week to come. Among its features will be reviews of old and new books, sharing of favorite podcasts, some family news, Bristol events and happenings and issues surrounding education, work and community journalism. He can be reached at dfortier@bristoledition.org.