Voting with Kelly

  

My daughter messaged me: "Voted this morning. Just on the town level. School committee.  Bet Eva and Kelly would be proud."

Voting in our family was considered as important as breathing.

Kelly, our neighbor, wasn't in our family: she worked the local polls. If we hadn't shown up close to when the polls would close, we'd get a phone call. Her message was "get your butt down here," put more politely. 

Now that I can vote in Switzerland, and it happens at least four times a year with referendums and initiatives providing for new laws or disagreeing with parliament, I vote. If I'm not in Switzerland, I have the ballot package sent to me. 

Switzerland has mostly mail-in voting. Sadly somewhere only between 40-55% of the population votes. They obviously didn't have a Kelly in their lives.

Sometimes I vote in person. The polls are open Sunday mornings for a couple of hours. We are offered croissants, cookies, tea and/or coffee. 

When I drop my ballot in the post or in the ballot box, I think: "This is for you Kelly. Thank you."