Ninety-six years later...
The Presidential election in 1920 was the first time in the United States that women were able to vote. Warren Harding won that election.
Now, only 96 years later, women not only vote, we have a female candidate. As I’m writing this it’s Tuesday, so I have no clue if we have our first female president or not.
Did you vote in this election? I hope so, no matter who you voted for. That’s the beauty of democracy. You can vote for anyone you want, even writing in a name if you like.
This election has garnered a lot more interest than normal, and, in my opinion, raised a lot of negativity. Mud-slinging by everyone involved is not my idea of how an election should go. But apparently, that’s just me, as the mud is several feet deep in both camps.
Our family has always felt it was important to vote and rarely does one of us miss the opportunity. I was two days home from surgery and the hospital the last time I didn’t vote. If someone had been home to drive me, I probably would have managed it.
Daughter Dana managed to vote Tuesday also, despite a broken ankle.
I keep telling her I’m not laughing about her ankle. I know how bad it hurts and how she feels totally helpless.
Monday, she was sure that she needed to be in the hospital on massive painkillers. Tuesday, as granddaughter Remy and I helped her painfully to the car at 7 a.m. so we could go vote, she said it was better. We still had to take a rolling walker with seat, and crutches.
She’s not talented with the crutches. She told me she fell down about three or four times Monday. She had to go to the ortho doctor Monday from her emergency room visit, and Tuesday, she went back to her ortho doctor she’s gone to for a long time. Ever since both granddaughters broke their collar bones, in fact.
I’m not laughing I promise! But her tale of woe is actually quite funny.
She spends a lot of time loudly telling Remy to pick her socks up off the floor. They have two kittens who love to drag the socks all over the house.
Dana stepped on one of the errant socks and slid. She did not fall, but she did hear a “pop.” Guess what that was.
She texted me early Sunday morning to see if I’d take her to the ER. I would and did and, of course, that pop was the bone breaking.
And yet, we managed to get her piled in and out of the car so we could go vote.
Women fought for the right to vote from 1890 until 1920. I hope you all used your right to vote Tuesday!