My heart breaks for her.
Her, being Silda.
The focus in all the news outlets wass, of course, on the Governor himself.
The question on everybody’s mind: whether, or more appropriately, when he would resign. How long will it would take this man to see that he had absolutely no choice but to step down.
But as I watched with millions of others as Spitzer told the world that he needed time to repair wounds with his family (how much time, bud, a millenium?) the face I watched wasn’t Eliot’s.
It was Silda’s.
I watched, in horror, as she stood there. Strained. Tired. Tragic.
She stood there. Beside her husband.
I cannot imagine how she managed to stand there, on her two feet, in her ice blue suit, without melting.
I cannot imagine having to do it, and how she felt.
How, I keep thinking,
could she do it?
And how, I keep wondering,
could he?
We will learn from her example how to handle life’s unforeseen crises, with grace, and compassion, and stoic determination.
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