 And so I look at this country, and I look at all these things, sort of like how I look at the passing of my mom. Am I devastated that I'm not going to have the selfish things I want? I'm not going to be able to smell her skin anymore, and she smelled like an angel. I'm not going to be able to hold her hand and feel how soft her skin is. I'm not going to hear her laughter or her encouragement.