Witnesses

Well, of course I am going to write about the election. I'm a follower like that.

I brought my kids into the gym today after school. We went right up to the "H" line and proceeded to the voting booth. It was quiet, with only a few of the many booths in use. We went to a far corner where I could squat down and explain the ballot and show the kids how to fill it out. Then we walked to the machine and submitted my vote.

I felt the tingle beneath my eyes and was more than a little surprised. I stopped and looked down at the kids and just felt it. Then I signed some petitions regarding things like health-care, a new town park, and same sex marriage.

And then we bought nut-free goodies at the bake sale.

By the time I reached the car my fallen tears had left paths on my face and my eldest, mouth full of cupcake, looked up at me in bewilderment.

I tried to explain that I felt privileged, and fearful, and lucky, and more than just a little hopeful. That I felt the possibility of change. That I believe that our next President might literally change the world, and I was ever so pleased that they stood beside me as I cast my vote.

I'm not rich and I'm not poor and it's not about taxes for me. It's about possibilities.

Then we figured out that in 10 years he'll be voting. In 11 years his brother will, and in 14 their sister.

I started to say, "I know you 3 might not realize how important that moment in the gym was..." But my eldest interrupted with, "Oh, I know it's important. I'm just not crying about it."