Solidarity

It has been an awful awful week. 

Actually, that is a lie. Not an intentional one. I focus on the bad bits.

Monday was fantastic and happy and wonderful. But, you know, I don't really regard Monday as belonging to this week. It feels like some other world, some other life. Somewhere before the storm began.

The winds picked up on Tuesday, and it has taken all of my energy to keep walking.

This is not about the awful parts of this week, though. This is about the beautiful bits. They may have been the little bits. But, sometimes, that makes them all the more beautiful.

There has been so much love and support and solidarity this week. We were talking about solidarity in Sociology today. It comes up a lot as a functionalist idea, but that's not it's fault. I disagree with a lot of the things functionalists say, and this is yet another thing to add to the list. Because, you see, they talk about solidarity like it's a big thing.

Solidarity is not a big thing. It is a million and one little things. That's why it is so important, because it is the stitches holding us together.

Solidarity is a hand in mine, fingers locked together, squeezing just to remind me it's there.

Solidarity is texts and messages and Snapchats from people checking in on me, to make sure that I'm alive and breathing and still fighting; it's my friend making sure to like every positive thing I post on Twitter, and telling me I can do this.

Solidarity is pictures of bears, and wishes of glitter, and comments on a picture I posted on Facebook, which seem innocuous but are from people who know I'll know what the intention is.

Solidarity is being a legion- knowing that life is tough and awful sometimes, and things are unfair- but that we all experience pain, and we will get through this, because we have each other and that's all we really need.

Solidarity is everything, and sometimes it's all we have, but who could ask for anything more?