Congress Gets a Reset Button. The Rest of Us Don't.
New Congress. Same Problems. Higher Bills. Another Two Years?
October 2, 2026 | The Free-Range Advocate
Wouldn't it be wonderful if life came with a congressional reset button?
Every two years, we could wipe the slate clean, assign ourselves a new number, reorganize our priorities, and announce that we're ready to tackle the same problems we've been discussing for decades.
Unfortunately, my mortgage doesn't reset every two years.
Neither do my insurance premiums, grocery bills, or the financial struggles of military surviving families.
But here we are, approaching another congressional transition.
And I'm already developing a headache.
Welcome to the Congressional Recycling Program
As the 119th Congress approaches its conclusion, advocates are looking at their legislative priorities and wondering which bills will actually make it across the finish line.
When Congress ends, bills that haven't become law generally expire. If lawmakers want to pursue them, they must reintroduce them in the next Congress.
New bill numbers. New cosponsors. Potentially new committee assignments, congressional staff, and legislative priorities.
For advocates, that can mean rebuilding relationships, updating research, and explaining the same issues all over again.
And here's the entertaining part.
The problems those bills were intended to address don't expire with them.
They just get older.
Eight Years of Rising Bills and Shrinking Patience
Let me put this into perspective.
In the eight years since my husband died, almost every major household expense I have has doubled.
My income certainly hasn't.
I receive annual cost-of-living adjustments (COLAs), but those increases haven't come close to keeping up with what it actually costs me to live.
And then there's something I call fear pricing.
Fear pricing is my term for what happens when every new crisis becomes another reason to raise prices.
COVID? Prices go up.
Tariffs? Prices go up.
New regulations? Prices go up.
New World screwworm threatening the cattle industry? Prepare for higher beef prices.
Problems with oil supplies moving through the Strait of Hormuz? Apparently, everything that has ever been transported anywhere is about to cost more.
Some of these threats are very real. Others may be exaggerated. Genuine shortages, increased production costs, and disrupted supply chains can absolutely justify price increases.
But here's my question.
When the crisis passes, why don't the prices seem to come back down?
I understand inflation. I understand supply and demand. I even understand that businesses need to make a profit.
What I don't understand is why consumers are expected to absorb every new economic shock while apparently being expected to celebrate when prices merely stop increasing.
And no, inflation dropping from 8% to 3% doesn't mean prices dropped. It means they're increasing more slowly.
Meanwhile, my COLA is based on a national inflation measure, not my actual household expenses.
My insurance company certainly isn't consulting my COLA notice before sending me another renewal.
For people living on fixed incomes, including disabled veterans and military surviving spouses, this creates an increasingly difficult financial reality.
We cannot simply negotiate a raise every time our expenses increase.
And while Congress spends another two years debating legislation, our household budgets continue absorbing the consequences.
My bills don't reset when Congress does. They just keep getting bigger.
Surviving Families Cannot Put Their Lives on Hold
Military surviving spouses have been seeking meaningful improvements to Dependency and Indemnity Compensation (DIC) for years.
The Caring for Survivors Act is one example of legislation intended to address longstanding concerns about DIC compensation and eligibility requirements.
But here we are, facing another congressional transition with unfinished business.
For surviving spouses, this isn't simply a legislative issue.
It's the difference between paying an insurance premium and buying groceries. It's deciding whether to repair the car this month or hope it survives another few thousand miles.
And it's watching another year go by while expenses continue increasing.
We cannot ask our mortgage companies to wait until Congress finishes debating survivor benefits.
We cannot request that the electric company suspend rate increases until new legislation passes.
And we certainly cannot reclaim the years we've already spent waiting.
Whether a particular piece of legislation advances or expires, the underlying financial problems remain until meaningful solutions are implemented.
Institutional Memory Shouldn't Be Optional
Here's a thought.
What if we treated unfinished legislative business as something worth preserving?
Congressional offices change. Committee assignments change. Staff members leave. Legislative priorities shift.
I understand that. It's part of our political system.
But the research doesn't suddenly become irrelevant. The testimony doesn't disappear. The families who shared their experiences haven't magically recovered from the problems they described.
Why should advocates continually have to reconstruct years of work?
Outgoing congressional offices, incoming members, advocacy organizations, and legislative staff can all help preserve the institutional knowledge surrounding unfinished legislation.
There's nothing wrong with a new member asking questions.
There is something deeply frustrating about repeatedly answering questions that have already been thoroughly researched, documented, and answered.
We're not asking anyone to abandon the legislative process.
We're asking them to remember that the people affected by legislation exist outside that process.
Elections Are Not an Excuse to Stop Listening
We are approaching the November midterm elections.
Campaigns are important. Voters deserve to hear from candidates, examine their records, and decide who should represent them.
But constituents still exist between campaign events.
Veterans still need assistance. Surviving spouses still have questions. Military families still have problems that require attention.
And independent advocates are still trying to reach congressional offices without possessing a corporate lobbying budget.
Regardless of who wins an election, those responsibilities don't vanish.
Public service doesn't begin and end with campaign season.
Here's a Thought
Before the next Congress begins, imagine if every congressional office took a serious look at its unfinished constituent and legislative business.
Not just which bills received attention, but which problems remain unresolved.
What information has already been gathered? Which communities are still affected? What work can be preserved so the next Congress doesn't have to begin every conversation from scratch?
Advocacy organizations have a role in preserving that knowledge, too.
Maintain the research. Document progress. Preserve relationships. Make it easier for new staff and newly elected members to understand the issues.
Because starting a new Congress shouldn't require pretending the previous one never happened.
And while we're discussing unfinished business, perhaps we could remember that the people waiting for solutions are getting older, their financial resources are being stretched thinner, and their patience isn't unlimited.
Same Problems. Different Congress.
On January 3, 2027, the 120th Congress begins.
Some familiar faces will return. Others won't. There will be new opportunities, new priorities, and undoubtedly enough legislative proposals to keep everyone occupied.
Meanwhile, my bills will arrive right on schedule.
My insurance company will still expect payment. The grocery store will still charge whatever the market will bear. And my annual cost-of-living adjustment will still have absolutely no idea what it costs to live in my household.
I'll probably still be sitting at my laptop, Diet Mountain Dew within reach, explaining why military surviving families deserve meaningful attention.
I'm not opposed to starting a new chapter.
I'd simply prefer that we didn't have to keep rewriting the first one.
Congress gets a reset button every two years. The rest of us have to live with the unfinished business and figure out how to pay for it.
And frankly, some of us are running out of patience, brain cells, money, and Diet Mountain Dew.
The Free-Range Advocate: Because unfinished business doesn't become less important just because someone changes the calendar.