To the editor:

Do you have a deceased loved one who appears in your dreams? And when you wake up and remember that they are gone, does an ache settle in your bones?

Lately, I have been waking up with that pain. It’s the sense that my country, this city on a hill, this beacon of freedom, this land of spacious skies is going away.

Imagine that somebody in your family is diabetic. Then without warning, your relative is kidnapped off the streets. You are powerless to help.

This swooping up of human beings by masked and unaccountable ICE police is a sign that we are losing the story of who we are as a nation, losing our humanity.

There’s a word for what many of us are feeling: grief.

Today, we face a choice: We either name the grief for what it is or deny it. We either face reality, or cover our ears, close our eyes, and pretend this isn’t happening. Denial is a human reaction to events we’d rather not see, albeit not a healthy one.

Our hearts cry out: Face the truth.

But how, without falling into despair?

The answer? Find a community through which you can draw strength and courage, where you turn grief into action.

For instance, when this administration scapegoats and dehumanizes immigrants, you will find ways to protect, humanize and serve them in love.

In sum, name the grief, find a trusted community, then act to take our country back.

Peter Luckey,

Lawrence