Election Day

I'm not a very political person. I watched the first debate because I was promised a meatball sandwich for dinner and had a side of embarrassment because of how little I knew about some of the issues covered. Most days I take for granted the rights we have as Americans to vote. But when I go to the polling place and stand in those plastic cubicles with my ballot, I'm struck by just how lucky I am to have the privilege to let my voice be heard. I think of the people who died on American and foreign soil to make sure we kept that right. I think of the women who so desperately wanted to vote but couldn't because it was against the law. And almost every time I vote, I see someone who had to struggle to get there to vote; people with aged faces and stooped backs who would not be denied their privilege to vote. One year I waited to vote because they had taken the sign-in book out to the parking lot to someone who could not make it into the building. Despite his immobility, That man's vote was counted. And today, even if the candidates and issues I put my mark next to don't end up the victor once all the ballots are tallied, my vote was counted and I hope to be one of those people with an aged face and stooped back making my voice heard as long as I'm on this earth.