Rain Sprinkled Light

My twelve year old daughter Marina, and I left the house to a typical Oregon late fall evening. A constant steady rain punished the last of leaves that remained on the trees. We arrived at election headquarters just as early election returns were being shown on many very large screens. The room was filled with excitement and the night felt almost electric.

Marina knew that I liked politics, and she had become energized by the Kerry campaign for President, so she persuaded me to get her involved in a political campaign. Our job on election night was to deliver ballots for people who could not make make it to the polls. We awaited instruction from those who were in charge, and I got completely lost watching the election returns roll in, and I realized it was going to be a long evening. How can one not remember the buzz in that room, the electricity and how much the election really mattered. The vision that sticks with me that evening was just walking with my daughter as the cool rain lit by streetlights echoed a sound so steady and almost beautiful. I walked with my rain sprinkled daughter, just listening to her talk and being in complete awe of her interest in politics. She was beautiful in that rain sprinkled light.

But still lost in the election returns and the buzz of the room, I turned to talk to Marina I noticed she was talking to an older man whom I recognized as the Governor of Oregon. I had to let them talk. I remember just looking across a very gray room watching her talking to the Governor , like she would talk to me or a teacher at her school.

I sat and talked to Governor Kulongoski a bit later but can not remember a word that was said.
The assignment we got for that night ended up being a non entity. We picked up 10-15 ballots and the Oregon elections seemed pretty safe. With twelve close friends we viewed the returns from Ohio well into the evening. A gloom overtook the took the once festive room little by little.
The unspoken mood was a feeling of disbelief like being punched in the stomach a second time. This time the fight was not going to last weeks. It was going to be over swiftly. And maybe it was for the better. Not in the long run , but for that night only.

I still have the memory of my daughter walking house to house with me on that election night. The optimism in her eyes hinting at changing the world. She cried when she finally learned Bush had won the election. She cried warm, tired salty tears and I wiped her tears away as she fell asleep that night. I can still see that. The fall out of that election I have we have to live that every day. That may never go away.