I'm emotionally drained. Like Kos I have this bittersweet place in my soul today. But because of Kos
this is the first election in my life where I didn't have to stay up all night agonizing alone. Ten year old Zoe, my beautiful and bright granddaughter, calls my fellow Kossacks "Grandma's imaginary friends". That's cute and funny but in fact you're all very real to me and in many ways have sustained me and given me more hope than people I've known up close and personal all my life.
For instance, on election eve I posted a little diary titled "Crying Eyes, lamenting all the elections I have lived through since my first vote for JFK in 1960. In it I expressed the belief that this would be our day but recalling the disappointments of the past and predicting today would bring tears - of joy or sorrow or maybe a little of both. I don't know how many read my small contribution but a handful took time to comment and offer encouragement plus words of determination to continue their efforts for change no matter what the election outcome. That was renewal for me! It got the political juices flowing again and sent me back to the Move On link to make some more calls.
I didn't sleep a wink Monday night and last night brought only a couple of hours. So today I'm mentally muddled and the tears of joy come and go as they did the day after Bill Clinton was elected in 92. In that year I was a one woman band trying to drum up support for my guy in a Virigina town and county that was heavily Republican. Yes, there was a local Democratic committee but they had long before given up any serious activity on behalf of the party. I volunterred to help during the primary season and learned Va. had a caucus system and was told I could try to get people to show up in my district. From the list I was given only 3 people agreed to appear. Those plus my daughter and I won the night! Then I bought a bag full of buttons and a box of bumper stickers as soon as they were available from Little Rock and begged people to take them. I think that was in April and sad to say I still had leftovers on election day. My other small effort was in the form of money and phone calls and making signs to welcome Bill and Al when they stopped in Warrenton for speeches on their way by bus from Charlottesville to D.C. My city and county went to Bush but the man I supported was elected President of the United States. I should have been dancing in the street, shouting "we won - you lost" all over town. But for some reason none of that came. I was numb. I cried. I sipped bourbon. The celebration would come the next night with parties in D.C. for volunteers. But when the next night came, I cancelled the limo, called friends in Alexandria I was to pick up and told them to party on without me.
And that's the way I feel this day after. Like Kos, I'm in bittersweet mode. I'm bitter about Harold Ford's loss and Tammy Duckworth's loss. I'm bitter about sleaze thrown at good Democrats by the Confederacy of Fools who've have run out country in the ditch, I'm bitter about reports of supression of the black vote and a lot more. And I'm sad that our troops are still stuck in Iraq and that while we voted more innocent Iraqis were murdered.
But the victory is sweet and there are even laughs to be had. Seeing George, Donald and Bob dressed in funeral attire, lined up like Larry, Moe and Curly (no offense L,M,C) announcing Rummy's "retirement" and hearing Bush's drapes joke fall flat as he opened his press conference brough a chuckle. And living long enough to finally see a woman Speaker of the House brings joy to my heart.
But mostly my heart is filled on this day after with gratitude to Kos for creating this special place, this open- 24- hour cafe of sorts, where the caring, the concered, and the committed progressives can gather through "the tubes" and across the miles to debate, promote candidates, raise money, share ideas, criticism, joy and sorrow, hope, love and the inevitable, incredible snarks. You are, my dear Kossacks, (to quote Budhydharma) "wicked smart" and whether old, young and in between, you're my kind of people. Thanks for holding my hand.