“History”, my father would say, “always starts from a seed. Some specimen’s of history grow tall, with branches reaching seemingly forever. Other species of history are short with stubby growth, raggedy and rigid.” We had just finished watching the funeral of President Kennedy on CBS, when my father felt like sharing his thoughts. “JFK’s” branch has suddenly stopped no more reaching for the stars. But history is a weird thing, it can take away, but also leave tell-tale signs, remnants of what might what have been or could have been.” My father finally added, “they say history repeats itself, but it never duplicates itself. It leaves just enough DNA to seed and blossom and it becomes the responsibility of us to begin the process again.” Finally, with a little levity in his eyes, his voice and his mannerisms, he looked at me and said, “Tag, you are it…begin!”
Today, two husbands, married to one another, Joe and I voted. We stood with other same-sex couples, opposite sex couples, singles, people of all colors of skin, eyes, hair. We stood with some people wearing religious objects from their necks, some folks in T-shirts others in business attire. Today, we saw voting instructions in a variety of languages, people with the most serious of expressions and others with a look of relief. Today, we clamored about the heat, the lines, but found consensus, in the fact that we were making history, and that mattered! Today, a a tell-tale sign was upon a branch of American democracy, I certainly hope I am a part of that branch reaching for the sky!
