I’m not a political person. At least not publicly. I absolutely have opinions, some of them rather strongly held. But I do not enjoy discussing politics outside of my marriage.
Rob and I have a long history of seeing the world differently, casting votes that cancel each other out, listening intently to try to understand, all the while maintaining and nurturing deep and profound respect for each other.
As we have aged and walked through life together, Rob and I have definitely shaped and influenced each other. We have both moved more to the center from our once very polar posts. But we still have times of unabated political disagreement and we still live together in unabashed harmony.
If we are any example, it can be done.
The past couple of days have been historic. There have been a handful of times in my life in which I was mindful in the moment that I was witnessing history. I suspect I might always remember the moment when the startling reality came into view and I murmured to the TV, Rob, and the cat, “Oh my gosh, he might actually win.”
I didn’t vote for him. I didn’t vote for her either. Nevertheless I have found myself welling up with tears at the most unexpected things the past few days. But they are not tears of despair.
I teared up as I realized I was witnessing a revolution. I cried because of the profound beauty of democracy. There was clearly a large number of my fellow citizens who felt lost, ignored, dismissed, and discounted. And our system, while messy and painful at times, worked exactly as it was designed. The marginalized have an equal voice and they used it.
Despite the words of fear, anguish, and disgust riddling my Facebook feed, tears of pride welled up as I realized every single defeated friend accepts that they have to wait four years to enact a different outcome. We can disagree, we can be seething mad, we can protest and shout...but we each understand and embrace our system. The foundation of our system is not broken. It is strong and it is respected, even when it produces results we don’t like. That is a beautiful thing.
I cried the most, though, when I read the following exchange a friend posted about a conversation she had with her 4 year old daughter.
Ellie: "Did we find out who is the president?"
Me: "yes."
Ellie: "I think it's Donald Trump."
Me: "You are right. It is."
Ellie: "I hope he will be strong and kind. He will be a good president if he's strong and kind, right mama?"
Leave it to a child to narrow the focus to the real point. No politics, no name calling, no FBI investigations or resurfaced recordings. Just the barest, simplest, most discerning understanding of what is supremely important in a leader. And a sincerely open heart and mind to the possibility that it exists in our President Elect.
Our nation changed a few nights ago. Conventional wisdom on how to run a campaign, how to do polling, who turns out to vote, and what issues are heaviest on our hearts toppled over in dramatic fashion. There is unquestioningly more change to come.
But underneath the effects is a cause as strong as ever. Democracy is one of humanity’s greatest creations. I am proud and grateful to be governed by it.
2 comments:
I am Ellie's Grandmother. I cried too. I cried because a 4 year old had to ask if our leader would be strong and kind
..and I cried because she did of all the people I have seen...bring the election home. we need strong...we need kind. We need our Ellie's. We need Mommy's and Daddy's like Ellie has who are teaching her what is important in life. Everyday my daughter and her child have a discussion about how she was kind that day and strong. We all need to be kind and strong and come together as a country...for our Ellie's ..for tomorrow. Your post was beautiful
Candee, you have an amazing and inspiring daughter, son-in-law, and grandchildren. They give me hope that we the people can transcend the politics that can try to engulf us. Thank you SO MUCH for commenting! And for raising such an extraordinary daughter.
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