My mom would really be happy right now. I don’t think there’s anyone who is a bigger fan of Hillary than my mother. When Hillary ran for president in 2008–everyone in the assisted living facility where she and daddy lived had no doubt who mom supported. Meal after meal she’d share her views and talk with anyone who’d listen (well, frankly pretty much forced everyone to listen) why Hillary was the best candidate.
It was a very sad day in April of that year when Hillary pulled out of the race to the west wing and the oval office. I well remember the day she despondently told my older sister, Barb, and me—“Well, I have nothing left to live for…Hillary’s gone.” We both reminded her of all the people in her life–daddy, her daughters, all her grandchildren–who loved her and brought meaning to her life. But truth be told –it really didn’t seem to make it’s mark or a difference. She was not to be consoled.
From that point forward her health rapidly declined. With complete dismay we saw her lose that love for life and take charge attitude that was the foundation for our family. And the closer we got to the November election it seemed like the more she disengaged from all that was going on around her.
I’ll never forget the day I got a call telling me mom had taken a turn for the worse and would probably not make it through the weekend. I was working in Haiti and the last flight had left for the day. I was scheduled to leave early the next morning and held a constant vigil with God begging Him to let me say good-bye to my mother. The weight of my grief nearly crushed me when Barb called in the wee hours of Saturday morning sobbing out that horrible sentence–”mom died.”
But she also shared with me the story of mom’s last few hours and final act. Mom knew she was dying and true to form there was one last thing she had to do before she left: she had to cast her vote for the presidential election. Mom believed in the responsibility, indeed the obligation, of participating in the political process. Her view was if you don’t vote you don’t have the right to complain. And even on her death bed, mom was going to exercise her political right and make her voice and vote count. She told the hospice social worker sitting at her bedside–she wanted her absentee ballot.
The facility staff frantically searched through her things as mom labored to hold on. Shortly after noon they finally found her ballot and she cast her vote. Right; responsibility; obligation satisfied she drifted into a coma and slipped away. Although I can’t say for sure I would bet anyone what she did–wrote in her favored candidate’s name–none other than Hillary.