Forward

That's the direction we need to be moving in. But for a minute, I need to go back, to a memory that feels relevant.

Four years ago yesterday, I flew into Chicago --  for a final visit with my mother, who was dying.

She'd been mostly bedridden for a number of years and for the course of a couple of elections hadn't been given the opportunity to vote.

But 2008 was different. When my sweet sister the Libran discovered our mother's non-voting predicament, she pushed her sleeves up, got the paperwork going, then got on a plane and delivered the ballot in person.

Our mother not only got to vote, she lived long enough to see her candidate elected. And oh my, did her eyes shine as her man was met by the cheering throngs in Grant Park.

And oh dear, did my sister's and my eyes shine as well as our 83-year-old mother lifted her arm in a victory fist-punch.