It’s going to be a long, nail-biter of a day. It’s Election Day, and while many of us – a record-breaking number, in fact – have voted early, the masses still have lots to say.
Please, God – let them speak the right words. Choose the right candidate. Choose the one that speaks from a place of unity, not divisiveness; of respect, not hatred and bigotry; of mental toughness, not thin-skinned, overly sensitive mania.
I think it’s clear that I’m with her.
I voted two weeks ago, as soon as early voting began. I walked into the polls – in the very same purple shirt I’m wearing now, in fact – waited in line for an hour, and cast my ballot. I was not the staunchest of Hillary supporters; there have been many times when I was more of an anti-crazy candidate versus a Hillary ally. So it rather surprised me when I got all emotional after casting my ballot. I’m not ashamed to admit that I had talk my tear ducts out of tingling and filling my eyes with tears. It was a close one.
Because it’s so important to me that my daughters know that they, too, could be president. They’ve seen how hard you have to fight for what you want. For what you believe in. They’ve seen how to do it with respect. They’ve listened as supporters taught them that when people standing against you go low, you don’t meet them where they’re slinging mud – you go high. It’s been such a tough election, but I am so grateful that my girls got to see some very important lessons in action.
Now, please God – let the right person for this job win the election. And don’t let us all die as we wait for the verdict. For the next dozen hours, I have the comfort that Hartsfield Landing…or, um, Dixon Notch…has at least voted for Hillary Clinton. Hopefully the rest of the coverage today doesn’t dim that light.
Meanwhile, I’ll be chanting to myself “go high, go high, go high….” all day, in my pant suit of solidarity.
Let’s make history, America.