I went to Washington to march on Saturday.
I drove in a packed car for 7 hours, hip to hip with other marchers. We were two 60 year old grandmothers, a 20 something man and woman, and a transgender teen.
We met up with others in Maryland; two more 60 year olds, our old friend and her husband, their two 30-ish daughters, and a few more people.
I was lucky enough to be with friends and with my two strong adult sons. I love and trust everyone who walked with me that day. We went into the Capitol city to express ourselves and to be heard. We listened, we cheered. Some of us wore pink pussycat hats. In the end we shuffled more than marched because of the density of the crowd.
At last we got back to the home of our hosts, and it was then that we discovered we’d…
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