Judy and I always voted in every election, local, state, national. We often talked about the fact that our two votes didn't really count for much, especially in Texas, where we were usually on the side that lost by a wide margin. Hundreds of thousands of votes in some cases. But we voted.
Two years ago on election day, Judy wasn't feeling well at all. We didn't know it, of course, but she had only a little more than three weeks to live. I'd sent for ballots to be returned by mail, but I was too late, so to vote, we'd have to go in person. I told Judy that we should just skip it, but she wouldn't hear of it. She said that she was going to get dressed and that we were going.
I have to tell you about Judy getting dressed. She never went anywhere in jeans and a sweatshirt. In fact, she didn't even own any jeans. Getting dressed meant putting on her makeup and her good clothes. Not that she didn't put on makeup every day, anyway, no matter how bad she felt, even if she wasn't going anywhere. She'd wear comfortable clothes around the house, but when she went out the door, she was dressed to the nines Always.
So she got dressed, and we went to vote. It gave her a real sense of satisfaction to have voted for Wendy Davis and Leticia Van de Putte, even though they lost by huge margins, by even more than had been predicted.
The next trip we made was to M.D. Anderson, three weeks later. I'm sure I'll be thinking about this every election day from now on, and you can bet I'll be voting every time I can.