Election Day

Grief is a funny thing.  Well, actually it’s not funny at all.  Before last August, it had been over 20 years since I lost a close family member.  It’s now nearing the one-year anniversary of my grandma dying.  It feels like yesterday that we received the call from my sister that my grandma had fallen in her little assisted-living apartment.  At 91 years of age, obviously I knew that she was very advanced in age.  But, this was my grandma.  My super spunky, can-do-anything grandma.  Surely she would be okay.  Well, she was not okay and we lost her a week after she fell.

Like probably most people who are missing someone they love dearly, I often think of my sweet grandma.  I can tear up in a nanosecond and I just ride the wave of grief.  Truly, it feels like a wave that takes over.  Thankfully, it’s relatively quick and within a few minutes, I am back to the present and not hurting so bad.  It’s kind of a lather-rinse-repeat thing.  I just do this over and over every couple days/weeks.

So, Tuesday I exercised my civic duty (aka – I voted) and literally had my breath taken away.  I walk to the table and am asked by a lady in her 70s for my name.  You see, my grandma worked every election.  She loved it.  I can just see her now - taking names (literally) and making sure no one broke any rules.  Goodness, Grandma was all about being fair, not cutting in line and overall rule adherence.  

Working election day was one of the many things she always did (just like how she always gave blood).  I loved this about her.  So, back to election day this week - when asked for my name, I had to swallow hard and regain my composure because I had started to tear.  She must have thought this run-off election was REALLY important to me.  What she didn’t know was that I am a granddaughter who really (really) misses her grandma.