HOW DID I GET HERE:  Final Decision?

Today is the day.  It's Monday, March 10, and by 5:00 pm, I must make a final decision.  Shall I withdraw my name from the race or continue as the Democratic candidate for State House, District 40, in red Montana?

For a week now, I've been in shock, trying to adjust to the fact that I agreed to have my name put on the November ballot.  What does it all mean?  How will it effect my life?  How will it impact my daughter's life?  Do I really want to do this?

I'm free from any worry about what the Board might think; that hurdle is behind me.  I have not been chosen to serve on the Board of the organization for which I volunteer.  But I am concerned now about the true feelings of my daughter when it comes to my running for office as a Democrat.

She has lived with her husband in this red community much longer than I have.  She teaches at the local elementary school and has built close ties to friends.  She takes most things in stride when it comes to my projects but is not built like me and doesn't have a fire in her belly about politics.  In fact, she tends more towards moderation in most things.  I do not want to cause her any embarrassment because of my choices.  I determine early in this day to get her true feelings about this latest project.  She has been my co-conspirator over this past week and has not yet shared my secret with anyone.  But what does she really think?  This will help in determining my final decision.

In my journal-writing this morning, I create a title for this possible project:  Running Blue at 72 -- in a Red State.  It kind of has a rhythm to it.  When I propose it to my daughter, she too thinks it fits well.  She also tells me that whatever I decide to do, she will be O.K. with it.  It will not be a problem for her.  We are each our own person, she says, and I should do whatever I think is right for me.  Bless her.

It is now 2:00 pm, three hours left.  I suddenly get into a panic.  How will I do this?  I'm not an extrovert; I'm an introvert.  How do I think I can do all that is required?  What will be the results when it comes to die-hard opposition?  Will I be safe?  I can't confront people about what they should do.  I can't go around and knock on doors.  I really can't put myself out there in this way.

Immediately, I sit down at the computer and send out S.O.S. emails to sympathetic and trusted friends.  I tell them of my situation and panic and ask for advice, suggestions, feedback -- anything that could help.  I have three hours left, I say.  Within that period and even into the next day, to a person they respond with nothing but support and encouragement.  You can do this! they tell me.

Shortly before 5 pm, calmness overcomes my panic.  I know now what to do.  I discover in the pit of my stomach what I really want.  I want to go through this experience as a 72-year-old political-junkie neophyte, running blue in a red state.  How many other people do I know who have done this kind of thing?  But the kicker is that I want to write about it as I experience it -- that's what I really want.

The clock shows that 5 pm has come and gone; there's no going back.  I'm in -- for the long haul.