Going to Georgia

It’s the morning after the election. I’m feeling better than I did last night, apart from being super tired and maybe a little hungover. The results are still inconclusive, but I am optimistic.

I did a lot of text banking to get out the vote over the past couple of weeks. Yesterday, I did some phone banking. One of the states I called was Georgia.

My Grandma was from Georgia. She moved to the Bay Area to go to UC Berkeley. She spent her career as a public health nurse in San Francisco. She worked in the Haight in the 60s and 70s, wore Birkenstocks, and saw some shit.

She was one of my political inspirations. When I started becoming politically active in college, it made her really proud. We had a strong connection because of that. After we taught her to use AOL, she did the typical Grandma thing of forwarding me terrible political memes. I’d take her out to lunch, and we’d talk about the state of politics, and share our thoughts on the presidency of George W. Bush.

I’m glad she got to witness the election of Barack Obama. I’m glad when she passed in 2011, she did so with the hope that politics was changing for the better.

Anyway, I was calling voters in Georgia yesterday, and I thought about my Grandma and how much I miss her.

The world shines
As I cross the Macon county line
Going to Georgia
- Mountain Goats