9:30 p.m.

I cannot believe that the count is so close.
I could never have imagined that this...this...narcissistic infantile orange-skinned Mussolini-clone could get close enough to the Presidency of our country that I would be up biting my nails.  I can't decide whether to send this off now or wait until the final results are in, to see whether I will utter a sigh of relief or a shriek of horror.
So while we are waiting for the count to end:
I have spent the last week reading through the second of the big notebooks of printouts of the CaringBridge entries.  I took my friend and hostess Diana's instruction that I not begin at the beginning, so I started with the binder of the first Fall into Winter.  
More than anything, I am struck by the consistent kindness and caring of you who wrote responses.  It is really true that these entries helped, advised, supported and buoyed me up all throughout that initial hardest period following my beloved's death, and continued through the following time until now.  
I am so grateful for your continued presence, for your excellent advice and suggestions of things I would never have thought of, for your kind and generous hearts.
Well, it is now 11:30 p.m. on Election Day, and I shudder to contemplate what looks like the results of this election.
But also, I suddenly hear a remembered echo of my beloved, saying "Hartzeleh, hob nisht kein moireh...s'iz doh a Gott in der velt...[don't be afraid; there is still a G-d in the world...]"
I can't believe that we and our country would be abandoned to the depravities of this excuse of a man without some recourse to help, to law, to mercy, to miracles. Now we have to reach for them.

Blessings, blessings; good night.