I tell people that politics is a family sport. My grandfather, my mother, me. I apparently (I don’t remember this) door knocked in my first election when I was 5.
I don’t remember the first one, but I remember many after that. I remember political conventions, I remember rallies, I remember, well at least three decades of it. I’ve never been an official agent, I’ve never been a campaign manager. There’s literally nothing else I’ve not done.
I’m serious. Door knocked. Called. Stuffed envelopes, dropped leaflets, hosted coffee parties, donated.
As I work on typing this, I’m also sending texts for the NDP. Yes, that’s right, if you’ve gotten a text from Tim with the NDP, it may have been me. (Aren’t we all a bit Tim?)
I see children in the campaign office, I saw them when I voted tonight.
I wanted this. I wanted to bring him to a campaign, I wanted him to know that this mattered. That this is where he came from, that this was part of his history.
I wanted to tell him about his great great grandfather, to tell him about my mother, his grandmother. To tell him about the arguments because she dared to volunteer for Pierre Trudeau. I would tell him about the time his grandmother came for coffee and saw an NDP lawn sign. And the look. Oh, the look. I wanted the moment when politics stopped being a family business and became his business. The moment when he supported someone I abhorred, and I told both of that it was important to participate.
I wanted that.
Gabriel died 11 years ago. In some ways, he died again today.
I’m sorry. The little losses (that are sometimes so big) just never stop. Sometimes we expect and plan for the gut punch. And sometimes it comes out of nowhere. xoxo
Sending you giant virtual hug.
I see that your candidate won, even if the party lost. I have no doubt you were a major contributor to her success, and I hope that’s a small bit of consolation! (((hugs)))
There is no end to the hopes and dreams that die with a child. I’m sorry, Cheryl.
i carry your heart with me(i carry it in
my heart)i am never without it(anywhere
i go you go,my dear;and whatever is done
by only me is your doing,my darling)
i fear
no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want
no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)
and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you
here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows
higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that’s keeping the stars apart
i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)
I read your post and I cherish this poem by e.e.cummings and it sat well with your words..