Sitting in a restaurant last night, my table was facing a grandmother, mother, and young son. As they were contentedly chatting away, the son (who was sitting next to his grandmother and who was about 12 years old) began to casually stroke his grandmother’s hair while listening to his mother speak. The grandmother accepted this tenderness without fuss or comment, as though, yes, of course, this is the way grandsons show affection to grandmothers–what’s the big deal.
No drama. No bluster. No angle. No spin. No bull. It was a quiet, loving moment shared between family members. And this plays out hundreds and thousands and millions of times a day across the country. Life itself is what I often choose to use as my primary news source to tell me about the state of the country. I find that news source more reliable.