I think I hear Maureen McGovern singing. If you didn’t live through the seventies, just Google that and watch her croon, “There’s Got to be a Morning After, if we can hold on through the night.”

Poor grammar aside, the song spoke to us. It was both a sound track for the original Poseiden Adventure and the anthem for our lives during the tumultuous era of Viet Nam, Civil Rights, and three assassinations in a row. Sometimes, we really did feel like the years from 1968 to the mid-seventies were one long night of trouble. But, we knew there would be a morning after. At, least we hoped so.

The last two weeks have been a little retro for me. No assassinations, thank the Good Lord. But in our personal lives we’ve felt like two people trapped in the bottom of a sinking ship. Every time we think we’ve found an escape hatch, another seam bursts. (Hiccups, for goodness sake! 24 hours of Hiccups!)

It is all just earth-stuff and will right itself with some time and healing from surgical scars and complications that followed. I’m perfectly healthy and am simply nursing the invalid. But you know how that goes. Sometimes the “in sickness and health” part is also the “two have become one” part.

Our nation is in a similar state, I think. The mid-term elections are over (hallelujah) just in time for the presidential race to gear up. (heavy sigh) It would be easy to get discouraged about the state of our affairs in a national way.

But this morning, my ailing hubby helped me put fresh sheets on the bed we had fought all night. Between hiccups, he quoted lines from one of our favorite comediennes. And I could hear Maureen McGovern singing in my head.

I’m not sure how many dark nights our nation or our house on Mercy Street will still have to endure. But I am thoroughly, completely, unashamedly convinced there will be a Morning After.

And, it will be glorious.