In the Final Moments Before the Election of a Lifetime

My heart is beating out a staccato rhythm as I anticipate what is the most pivotal election of my life. My first foray into that sacred duty was when I was a child and joined my parents in the cafeteria of my elementary school as they cast their votes. I remember being excited when I could participate, at least vicariously in what they told me was my duty as an American citizen. I recall the curtain closing behind us and then opening after the big lever was pulled. A flash of Wizard of Oz…we DO need to pay attention to the person behind the curtain.

I initially cast my vote when I turned 18, for Jimmy Carter and have walked into the voting booth every election since then. Sometimes the candidate I chose won, sometimes he lost. I cheered when my guy was triumphant and I had a sense of ‘thud-disappointment’ when he wasn’t. I was over the moon ecstatic when Barack Obama twice stood at the podium on Inauguration Day and was sworn in as the 44th President.

When all was said and done with the election of 2016 when I had my heart set on Hillary the thud turned to deep dive trepidation, and with each tweet, each lie, each provocative statement, each horrific decision, each ignoring of professional advice, each turning his back on the welfare of this country, each hate-filled invective, each criminal act, each word of derision against journalists and anyone who challenged his position, the amps were upped incrementally.

I consider myself a woman of action, and with the pandemic in high gear, I reluctantly chose to steer clear of rallies and vigils and peaceful protests in my area. I promised my son and daughter-in-law that I would, both for my own health and safety (I am 62, with a history of heart attack, asthma, and pneumonia) and for the protection of my now 9-month-old grandson, who like my son predicted when he was in utero, Dean would be the ‘center of my Universe’. He is a major reason why, instead, I have written numerous articles on social justice, have donated as I can to various Democrat campaigns on the national and state levels. I participated in a Ridin’ with Biden caravan last weekend and still have the sign on my car and in my yard, declaring my choice for President. Last night I enjoyed a live streaming version of a decadent indulgence from my college years; the Rocky Horror Show that was a fundraiser for WisDems (Wisconsin Democrats). I needed to do something that felt ‘normal’ and brought me back to an innocent and playful time in my life. I sang along and danced The Time Warp. I marveled at the way various performers added their own special twist to the performance, with various actors playing the same role. The bittersweet part was witnessing Tim Curry who played Frank N Furter in the original (Both Mick Jagger and David Bowie lusted after the part, so I’ve heard), struggling to remember some of the lines following a stroke a few years ago. Bless Nell Campbell who had played the role of the tap-dancing paramour of the chopped up Eddie, named Columbia who prompted Tim when he stumbled. He riffed off of her when he could. The tag line, “Don’t Dream It, Be It,” echoes in my mind.

I have encouraged voting Blue all up and down the ballot, have attempted, sadly in vain, to convince those rare supporters of the current occupant of the Oval Office to change their minds, stating factual reasons and desiring to appeal to the good hearts within them. Turns out that they are single-issue voters, holding to their beliefs that he is pro-life. The reality is that he is not pro-life, but rather, anti-choice, and that is likely not because of any ethical conviction, but because he thinks taking that stand will appeal to his base. I challenged them to consider that life continues outside the womb and that children of all cultures, color, and countries of origin have the right to love, safety, and care. They weren’t having it and said blithely that we will have to agree to disagree since we all have our own opinions.

Here’s the deal. My father used to utter the words, “It’s a free country,” by which he meant that we had the right to express our views. While I agreed, I wondered what it meant when people clashed over basic values. Opinion is which flavor ice cream is best. Mine is mint chocolate chip, by the way. Opinion is which is the best band ever, the Beatles or the Rolling Stones. Opinion is NOT whether POC have the same freedoms and rights as those of us with less melanin in our skin. Opinion is NOT whether LGBTQ+ people have the right to live and love freely. Opinion is NOT whether climate change is real. Opinion is NOT whether people are dying from a raging pandemic. Opinion is NOT whether intimidating and bullying are acceptable.

I have been spending the last nine months adjusting to our ‘now normal,’ of mask-wearing, intensified handwashing, and physical distancing. I am grateful that I can work from home, offering telehealth sessions to clients in my psychotherapy practice. I have acclimated to making sure I have all the hygiene products with me in the car, in my purse, and in my house. The biggest adjustment has been refraining from hugging since I am the Founder of Hugmobsters Armed With Love.

Embracing people has been a major means of communicating love, support encouragement and connection, one that I miss palpably. I have been able to find new ways to reach out and touch emotionally through eye contact, and word.

I had a sweet experience that reinforced my belief that people are good and kind and caring. I was on my way home from babysitting my grandson Dean and stopped at Wawa at the corner of 202 and County Line Road in Chalfont, PA to pick up a sandwich. There was a man standing off to the side asking if I was at the end of the line. He said he didn’t want to be a schoolyard bully and cut in line. We agree that more people ought to feel that way. I told him he could go in front of me. Guess what he did after that? He put a $20 bill on the counter and told the cashier he wanted to pay for my order as well as his. What a good soul. His name is Monte and he is a security guard. We offered virtual hugs and blessed each other on our way out the door.

I have been attempting to find a balance between being informed and inundating my exhausted brain with the 24-hour newsfeed. I share the outrage of Anderson Cooper, Jake Tapper, Joshua Johnson, and Rachel Maddow, which would absolutely label me as a Liberal. I plan to keep company with them, as well as online with friends and family on Election Night. I plan to, as I have been in recent weeks…speak out, pray, visualize the fair and square election of Joe Biden and Kamala Harris. I have placed pictures of them, as well as stickers bearing their names on various altars in my home. I refer to him as President Biden. Last night, I lit candles and will do so for the next few nights to help create that reality. I will do my best to see the Highest Good. May my faith carry me through. A few nights ago, in dreamland, I heard the song ” Dancing in the Streets”. I swear I will do that in honor of our new administration!