November 7, 2020
Last night, I got my weekly call from my daughter L in Seattle. She and partner D moved there five years ago from Philadelphia. For most of those five years, we’ve interspersed catching up about family, friends, and work with rants about politics. Yesterday, our relief that Joe Biden was elected president was tempered by grief that so many Americans had voted for the other guy after four years of experience. Not “taking a chance” on an unknown, but knowing full well what he has done and will do. We mostly wanted the election called, to be over.
The first Saturday of the month is when the regularly scheduled meeting of our local Democratic Town Committee is held. Zoom meetings since March. My husband B and I joined the committee sixteen years ago, learned the ropes, and became leadership four years ago. My husband is chair, I’m recording secretary, and G, the smartest and most moral person either of us has ever known, is treasurer. Not exaggerating. The literal best person I know, and I can hardly believe she thinks highly enough of me to be a friend. She deserves a diary all on her own.
Anyway.
When we realized last month that the November meeting would be only four days after the election, we wondered whether the mood would be doom or delight. You can imagine which it was. We discussed serious issues, of course, especially how we could help in Georgia. Our (losing, sad tears, so wonderful) local MA state rep candidate Christina Eckert proposed a celebratory party. Forget about her loss, she has a good life, celebrate Biden’s victory. Good meeting vibe.
We were winding down our meeting when one of the attendees cried out, “My mom says they called it for Biden!” Everybody turned on the nearest TV and confirmed on whatever station came up first. From 253 EV to 273. Had to be PA’s 20 EV.
And so it was.
The attendees shrieked and crowed, agreed all around that the very best part was that we were with each other when the news came, after four years of meetings, despair, hope, phone calls, lit drops, visibilities, yard signs, and mutual support. The celebratory party is ON!
Minutes later, I got a text from daughter L. She had placed her speaker in the open window and was blasting the Hallelujah Chorus to her neighborhood. She texted and called friends and sisters, and we spoke shortly after. She was weeping with joy and confessed that she had held back tears for four years and now couldn’t stop crying. I confessed that I had been relieved knowing that Biden had won, but when the election was finally called, I was shocked to realize that, like her, I was full of joy. Overwhelmed by joy.
Told her about the Don’t-Mess-With-Philly meme. She loved it. “They threw batteries at Santa! They will NOT back down!”
Are we still worried? Damn straight. She has written off friends and family – they are racists! They just are! It makes her eventual wedding invitation list much smaller. But today, TODAY is happy. Semi-quoting Aragon in Return of the King, “there may come a time something something, but it is not this day!” Today we are just plain happy.
Husband B and I decided to order supper from our favorite restaurant, Café Azteca in Lawrence. We parked outside for pickup (oh, how we miss its fabulous interior of murals and poetry), and soon the server brought out our order. I arranged the containers at my feet while B took the receipt to add a huge tip and sign the bottom. Suddenly the server said, “Isn’t it wonderful?! I’m so happy!” She definitely took a chance, assuming that we were happy, too, but she was right. We had never met her before, but we shared feelings and hopes and worries like we were old buddies.
Relief suffused by joy.
That was today.
Tomorrow, back to work.