You won’t believe me, I surely don’t, but I’ve lived through 16 presidents. Way back when I was born on November 8, 1921, Warren G. Harding was the president. And every year that I could, I voted. My choices weren’t always the winner, but at least I voted my piece.
My dedication to voting stems from my parents. I don’t remember ever seeing them miss an election when I was a girl. Back then, we didn’t have absentee ballots or same-day voting registration. Which turned out to be a shame on my first legal election day. Back in the 40s, you had to be 21 to vote. Because my 21st fell exactly on election day and I couldn’t register earlier, I was turned away. I was so perturbed!
By the time the first presidential elections I could vote in rolled around, my whole world had changed. I had returned from a three-year stint with the U.S. Army Air Command in England during the war, was newly married and had my first child on the way. With so much going on my in my life, I could not tell you for the life of me anything about that election day. I do know I voted, though.
This year, my birthday falls on an election day once again, and it’s going to be a busy day. I’ll be jumping (well, maybe not jumping) on the bus to head to my polling place.
The real date I’m looking forward to is November 12, which is when my family is celebrating my birthday. We’ll all gather at my son’s house for a potluck. It’ll be nice to see everyone, and hopefully, there’ll be some tasty ice cream cake.
Because when you come down to it, the reason you vote is to make sure the people you love are represented. So if any of my family is trying to figure out a birthday present, just head to the polls, that’s all I ask. Hugs are acceptable, as well.
Also, thank you to everyone who sent me such wonderful well wishes for my birthday! You put some pep in this almost-95-year-old’s step.