Life changes between Presidential elections.
Four years ago, I did not have a fiendish, giggling toddler climbing on me nor did I plan to grace the world with another human being. Josh was fourteen at the time, and he watched the debates with me and sat by my side and watched election night unfold before us. I thought it was a good experience for him because he would be voting during this election. Little did I know that he would be in Spain and, in fact, not voting at all.
I voted for Obama and was genuinely thrilled that he won. Happy, happy, I tell you. It was a momentous occasion to finally break through the old white man barrier. We had a chance for real change.
I’m not going to say that the past four years have been hunky-dory with regard to the state of our country; however, the blame cannot be placed solely on the President. I would like to head-butt every single person who claims otherwise, but I would be without a paying job in Mormon-land.
Tomorrow we vote yet again, and once again I will vote for Obama. I don’t agree with all of his policies, but I never expected to concur with everything from the beginning. He has heart. Integrity. He clearly stands for equal rights. I cannot, in good conscience, vote for Romney and support the misogynistic GOP party. I will not elect a President who could promote the reversal of Roe v. Wade and the general decline of women’s rights in general. Take note: I didn’t say that he would, but that, taking into account his own belittling statements about women and the recent comments regarding rape by various members of the Republican Party (notable collection by Jen, thank you), a downhill slide back into the 1950’s seems possible with Romney sitting in the White House. Perhaps Romney’s heart is in the right place, but we can’t tell because he always has his foot in his mouth. I don’t know. I do know that the rest of his party seems jacked-up. I owe it to my daughter to continue to push for the advancement of women because we obviously still need it, despite it being the year 2012.
Tonight I’m sitting with my daughter, who wasn’t a speck in my mind four years ago during our last election, and we’re watching Cars- for me, it’s the first time. I heard a remake of a song that took me back to the summer of 1992.
I had this song on a cassette and I loved to listen to it as I drove the winding roads through Shelton and made my way to the Long Island Sound to relax and eat fried clams. I rolled down the windows and cracked the sun roof on the Saab and sang along as I explored downtown New Haven and watched law students scramble across the quad. I was completely free and capable of steering my life in any direction. I was young and I could do anything. Change was always possible.
Life changes between song remakes.
Everything changes. Let’s just be careful how we change.
**Cast my vote!