For Grandma and Kathleen

I cried a lot last week as the Cubs won the World Series.  Joy, yes, but also real sadness that my grandparents weren't alive to see this. And gladness that my parents were.  And concerns about the end times it foretold. (I jest.  I think.)

I will cry tonight as the election results come in-- however they do.

But as I've prepared my white linen outfit-- the closest I have to a white pantsuit, I've been very sentimental-- like I get about the Cubs, but angrier-- as I realize all of the sexism and misogyny wrapped up in so many things.  I'm pissed off about middle age and old women being invisible and apologize that I am just now recognizing the extent of this.

Yet Grandma, Mom, Kathleen, Jane, Darna, . . . you were never invisible to me.  Thank you that I've always had amazing strong women in my life (and thank you Dad for always appreciating that).  I pressed my linen pants and curled my hair this morning Kathleen; I know how you always hated Chelsea's; and Grandma I appreciate how you think that I should be wearing whatever is comfortable to vote and not worrying what Kathleen would think.  So I'm representing a long (but sadly not that long) line of suffragettes as I wear white to vote.  And Mom, the red shoes and the pterodactyl necklace are my Big Orange Splot you always taught me to have.

I took my sons when I actually voted on Friday.  We discussed the merits of Hillary Clinton and Gary Johnson  and the next day Gary Johnson was batting with the bases loaded in one of Aster's convoluted World Series play-by-play stories, perhaps with some college volleyball mixed in.  I love this.  There is so much disconcerting about the world they are growing up in, but my sons are growing up in a world in which female scientists are the norm, where the Cubs and Royals have recently won the World Series, and where women and libertarians are on the ballot for President.

Grandma and Kathleen,  I am excited to witness it for you.