1. For the past 90 minutes, I've been at a memorial service for a very special man. I've heard New York honking and celebrating outside, while on my screen, dozens of people are crying. A thread.

2. I've had too many of these this summer. Today, there was another memorial happening at the same time. Having to choose what room you you attend but cannot be in, which group of loved ones you cannot hold...too many have had to make these kinds of terrible choices this year.

3. I'm glad that the country has declared we will remove this accelerant to our worst character. But today, I am thinking about all those who did not survive to see it. All those who cannot celebrate.

4. I do not want to steal joy from this moment of relief. But the idea of moving forward without counting our dead—without reckoning with the horror of what the nation chose and what that cost...

I do not want to live through a year like this again.

5. Today, I mourn with hundreds and celebrate with millions. And it makes me hope that, when we lift our eyes from the election results, we will take time to cast them back towards all that we have not given ourselves time to mourn.

6. I know that, if we do not, our grieving will seep into how we try to move forward. And if this country has not yet learned it: failing to account for our past dooms us to repeat it.

7. So, as we step out into block parties, I hope that some of us are also planning memorials. Because we have not come close to grieving all that we have lost.