Out early, election day, into the very wet morning and a long walk in Rocky Narrows, that grew longer when I had to turn back – unable to cross the strip of path that runs in the wetlands from the River into a swamp. The river is high and overflowing. So, I enjoyed my detour, going in reverse, seeing the same sights from fresh angles. Election day, I voted with my daughters, just as we did two years ago, in the old brick Center School building where I went to first and second and third grade and ate paper bagged lunches in the basement. The top floor is where we vote in one large conference room peopled with volunteers, most of whom I’ve known for years, and this is what I saw that brought me to tears: a friend in town, gently guiding her dear husband’s arm to steady his balance, guiding him slowly, slowly, in and out of the voting booth. He is terminally ill. He wanted to vote today. It was a heroic effort. I will remember this, every election day, for the rest of my life.
