TODAY

He marched up to my window, shot me a big-brown-eyed look of something or other, then ran off to the withered gray garden. 

Buck. 

His antlers are crazy handsome.

Startlingly bold, he is trespassing. In my space.

Reminding me that the gardens which delighted and fed us -spring, summer and fall - need to be tilled and tucked away.

Today.

The leaves that have ditched tree for grass need to be gathered and mulched; piled protectively over bushes that will shutter their greens and blossoms till spring. The fencing that borders the vegetable garden - keeping Reggie the Hedgehog, Br'er Rabbits, Mr. Fox, and Buck's buddies at bay -  must be relocated; wrapped around the house to keep Reggie the Hedgehog, Br'er rabbits, Mr. Fox, and Buck's buddies at bay.

Today.

C'mon girl," Buck challenges. "Get moving. Get ready."

Driveway reflectors must be staked in grass. Bicycles, beach umbrellas, and rocking chairs must be transported from garage to basement and shed. Storm windows must replace screens.

"Prepare," Buck warns. "Get ready."

Today.

I am generally speaking, dear Reader, not a Preparer. I am more of a Triager - assigner of  degrees of urgencies in the Emergency Room of Life.

Truth is, Life beat the Preparer out of me. Because no matter how much I practiced and prepared, it was bigger and stronger than I. It was merciless.

I'm at the plate. Waiting for a fastball. Curveball is launched.

At my head. 

I'm prepped for the curveball. Knuckleball arrives.

With his bat.

(Yes, I know a baseball cannot carry a bat. But if Baseball is life - as my three boys have argued for years - then the least it can do is fit into my analogies.)  

These past few weeks, Life has beaten the life out of a whole lot of us.

A super storm snatches lives, homes, businesses, and livelihoods.  

An election splinters and shakes the foundations of a citizenry.

Hope is battered and snuffed.

Then, Today arrives. Warm and calm. A crazy handsome bold buck peers into my window, reminding, "There's work to do. Get up. Get moving. Prepare."

He is not suggesting that I prepare for unknowable and unexpected Life.

He is reminding me to Prepare to Endure.

A long winter.

A lost harvest.

A nation at odds.

A fractured relationship.

A debilitating illness.

A dream unaccomplished.

I know this, because just last night, I listened to a farmer recount the concerns and challenges brought on by a spring that fluctuated from too warm to bitter cold, and a summer plagued by drought. I listened to friends who were burdened with relationship troubles, caretaker troubles, employment challenges, and cynicism about a country so desperate for compromise and vision. 

Our conversations centered on enduring. Rather than retreating.

They focused on Today. Rather than yesterday and tomorrow.

These difficult, inspiring, and hopeful conversations shouted at me, "Hey! Don't forget! We're all in this together!" They made me realize that in too many seasons of my adult life, I've hunkered down like a seaside home - boarded up against elements that may or may not destroy. I've long prepared, then waited, for wind and rain and doom.

In preparing for Life, I piled sandbags over the entrances to my spirit, and hammered planks over the windows to my soul. Barricaded against storm, I dismissed light. I dismissed friend.

But one cannot endure life unless light pours in. Unless family, friend and stranger are welcomed - to assist, advise, inspire.

So Today. I will prepare gardens, driveways, garages and windows.

And I will prepare to endure Life. And whatever curveballs, knuckleballs or fastballs come my way.

It will be quite freeing to swap The Triager for The Preparer.

The Preparer who understands that 'Today' will surely come. 

Light will pour in - if I let it.

Life might not have my back, but the people I am so blessed to share life with surely do.


QUING Hereby Decrees:  The Buck stopped here and hereby decreed, "Prepare to Endure."

VOTE

60 percent of eligible voters will head to the polls this Election Day.

90 - 125 million people will not.

United Staters  rank 120th in voter turnout - out of 169 countries that record such data.

We get tired of voting every year.

The lines are too long.

The candidates are uninspiring.

Our votes don't seem to make a difference.

Dispirited. Disgusted. Disenfranchised. Are we. 

Other democracies wait years between elections and choose all elected officials by popular vote. 

They skip the hassle of voter registration. Make voting mandatory for all citizens. Fine those who choose not to cast a ballot.

Not like Us.

Red State. Blue State. Electoral College through-and-through states. Are we.

Political scientists like Lyle Scruggs from the University of Connecticut believe that the best hope for changing long-term voter turnout in the United States is to encourage teenagers to vote as soon as they are eighteen years old. "Voting is sort of a habit," Scruggs says. "We should be out in the high schools trying to convince people that it's a really great habit to vote."

Methinks we should be out in the high schools convincing people that voting is a really great responsibility. And privilege, as well.

Let's tell our teens about the thousands of women who picketed in front of the White House for some 750 days and nights between 1917 and 1919; women who were verbally and physically assaulted. Fined. Arrested. Jailed.

Because they wanted to vote.

Let's tell our teens about Alice Paul, a suffragist and activist who was arrested for carrying a banner that quoted President Wilson: "The time has come to conquer or submit, for us there can be but one choice. We have made it." Sentenced to seven months in prison, Paul was sent to the Occoquan Workhouse where she and fellow protestors were forced to endure unsanitary conditions, eat worm-infested food, and suffer telectric lights being turned on their faces every hour of every night, depriving them of sleep. Placed in solitary confinement for two weeks, Paul was given nothing to eat except bread and water. Beginning a hunger strike, she was eventually sent to a psychiatric ward, where doctors forced a tube down her throat and poured liquids into her stomach to keep her alive.

Because she wanted to vote.

Let's tell our teens about W.H. Whittaker, the superintendent of the Occoquan Workhouse, who ordered nearly forty guards to brutalize the suffragists on November 15, 1917. The guards "beat Lucy Burns, chained her hands to the cell bars above her head, then left her there for the night. They threw Dora Lewis into a dark cell and smashed her head against an iron bed, which knocked her out. Her cellmate, Alice Cosu, who believed Lewis to be dead, suffered a heart attack. According to affidavits, guards grabbed, dragged, beat, choked, pinched, and kicked other women."

Because they wanted to vote.

Let's tell our teens how The 15th Amendment to the Constitution -  ratified on February 3, 1870 - granted all African American men the right to vote; but the struggle for equality continued for almost a century before the passage of the Voting Rights Act of 1965 allowed the majority of African Americans in the South to  register to vote and participate fully in American public and civic life.

Let's tell our teens about the millions of individuals like themselves who, throughout the short course of American history, suited up in uniforms and went to war.

More than 1.3 million members of the United States Military have died defending American rights and freedoms. 

More than 1.6 million have been wounded. 

So Americans can speak out. Worship as they like. Choose a vocation. Build a family. Vote.

Let's remind our teens, our kids, ourselves that beyond all the election noise, the hassles and excuses, in fire halls, schools gymnasiums and church basements across this country, white-haired grand-kids and great-grand kids of suffragists and soldiers - many of them veterans of war themselves - will work from morning until night manning voting booths this Election Day.

Because they want us to be able to vote.

Democrat. Republican. Independent. None of the above.

Make your choice.

Cast your vote.

It's a really great habit. Responsibility. Privilege.

It's a Gift.

QUING Hereby Decrees: VOTE!