Dear Mr. President:
Two days before your departure, through tears, I watched your staff on CNN as they entered the last days of your administration. I felt an immense wave of gratitude for each and every one of them. And of course, for you.
This wasn’t supposed to go this way but here we are and so we must move forward. Your grace and poise leave me aspiring to do better even though I will say that I carry out the petty that you are unable to given your position (you’re welcome).
And let me say that I haven’t always been happy with you. There are policies that I thought you should’ve handled better. There are statements that I wish you would’ve made. You didn’t always do the thing that I wanted you to do. Yes, you disappointed me a great deal of times.
But there has always been a level of pride and a special kind of joy that bubbles up to the top as I think of these last 8 years. As I think of the way you uplifted the presidency. Your staff. There’s something to be said about how you treat another human being and what I have learned from you is a level of poise that I don’t know I will ever achieve (let’s be real, Barry, you know I’m a certified pettyatrician). I enjoy seeing it though sometimes I wish you’d just kick down a podium.
I’ve managed to get around this by providing my very own anger translator services (what mailing address should I send my invoice to?). This was from your farewell speech:
I have to laugh so that I do not cry.
Though I will forever regret not visiting the White House during your administration, I think it might’ve been too much to ask for considering that I shook your hand and sat around a table of women to tell you my story.
You listened when I told you about what it was like to be an entrepreneur and what it was like to care for my dying mother. When I told you that women don’t mind working hard but we just need flexibility to get it all done you shook your head in agreement. Listen, that meant the world to me. Meeting you was a highlight of these last 4 years serving a higher purpose. And reading the book you autographed for my child has been a great big honor.
This is what she had to say the night after we met.
She says she’s going to miss you and that you were really nice. This past week, she’s been lamenting losing you and asking questions about unvoting people. The petty apple doesn’t fall far from the petty tree. What can I say? But look what a difference 3 years make:
I started writing you this letter through tears. But as I went along I found laughter, silliness and, ultimately, hope. At the end of the day, in spite of it all, this is what you leave me with. And for that, I am so grateful to you, Mr. President.