I felt stirring of sadness and grief today walking by two polling places in Chicago where I am living for three months on sabbatical. There were lines of people waiting to vote. The sun was out, though it was chilly, and people were chatting each other up. They looked happy.
I was able to vote when I was home in October for a week. By mail. I loved the convenience, of course. But the tug toward the old way was strong this morning, plus seeing all the “I voted” stickers on people's lapels.
Wouldn't that be grand?
(Becky Nappi photo)