Angel's Holiday

As I am confined to my apartment, I’m taking the liberty to post a couple of photos texted to me today by my daughter, who lives near Houston, Texas. She and her significant other have driven to South Padre Island for four days of vacation. They are both gig workers who don’t get vacation time, sick time, or holidays, and this four-day vacation is their first, as they had to save up for it (enough to cover their expenses plus lost wages) over the past two years. 

I am repressing my desire to rant about gig work and how it exploits workers, as I’ve said it all before. It affects me personally, as she can never afford the time to come see me, even if I pay for the air ticket.

They’re staying in a motel with a walkway built over some grassy dunes out onto the Gulf of Mexico beach, and I’m delighted for them. He was born in Poland and came to the USA when he was twelve; she was born in Lesotho and came to the USA ten years after he did, when she was twelve. They have bonded over their immigrant experience and shared values, and they celebrated their second anniversary a few months ago. I’ve never heard her so happy as she is right now, and that, and her joyful photos (main and extra) are lifting me through some of the anxieties of this moment. 

I’m feeling pretty well. Sue is not.