A sassy, crafty mama bird from Los Angeles
raising a very sweet little girl with Autism
and a new baby boy in the Midwest... and other stuff, too.

Thursday, February 24, 2011

Making someone proud

On Tuesday November 5th 1996 I was 19, living in San Francisco and about to vote in my very first presidential election. I was nervous and excited. Coming from a politically and socially aware and active family, this was a lot more than just a civic duty; it was exercising a right and a rite. I love voting. I take the bird with me into the voting booth just like my mommy took me when I was her age. I love that I have the right to do it and I do it often. In fact, that first time had such an effect on me, that last April when Greg and I visited San Francisco, I walked past that Post Office on Taraval Avenue and excitedly pointed out "that's where I voted for the first time!"
I was proud of myself that day. But after years of listening to Gene, my teacher and friend, go on and on about the importance of participating in the political process, I knew he'd want me to call him as soon as I'd left the building. So I did. And he was so excited. He was in his 60s at the time, so he was no stranger to the polls, but I knew he was living vicariously through me as he relished in the excitement of a first time voter. He was so excited and very proud that over the years we'd spent together he'd instilled in me a true passion for being involved in my community and being a part of the process of working to make a difference in the world around me. Of course, it helped very much that I voted for Bill Clinton that year (which I'd do every single year if the laws allowed), as Gene was a lifelong and staunch democrat.
As the years passed, and I moved away from California, we still remained close and often discussed political and social issues. He was always proud of me and loved me and never afraid to tell me. Of course, I think he understood just how mutual the feeling was. Especially that day in 2004 when I called him to tell him I was having a baby and that no matter what it was (boy or girl) I was naming it after him. But, that's another story entirely....


Mama's Losin' It
This week's writing prompt:
Describe a time when someone was proud of you

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