It’s been said that if you don’t vote, you can’t complain. I learned that early on. In my family, voting was an important part of any political discussion.

I turned 18 in my first year of college, and although I wasn’t feeling very well, I got up from my sick bed to cast my first vote Nov. 2, 1976. I wanted to vote in my first presidential election. Back then, everyone went to their local polling places and stood in line, sometimes out in the cold and rain, waiting to cast their ballot.

My father was a precinct committee member and worked the neighborhood polling place from 6 a.m. to 7 p.m. on election day. As a youngster, I remember going to vote with my mother and taking my dad a sack lunch for him to eat while working the polls. Later on, in high school when I could drive, I took orders for all the poll workers and delivered lunch to them.

Election days were always special because, whether I was helping my dad, or coming to the polling place to vote myself, I would see neighbors that I hadn’t talked to in awhile. We’d get caught up, share a few hugs, and make promises to get together before the next time election day rolled around.

Every time I moved, no matter where to, one of the first things I did was re-register to vote. And if I was new to the area, on the night before election day, I’d make a dry-run to the polling place — a local school, church or fire station ­­— making sure I knew where it was.  Somehow election day has lost some of its luster for me in our “mail-in” ballot society. True, it’s more convenient, and it’s up-to-date. But it doesn’t have the same feel. I even miss the “I Voted” stickers given out at the polls.

Getting a ballot two weeks before Election Day, filling it out, putting a stamp on it, and dropping it at the post office, doesn’t measure up to those days outside the First Lutheran Church in Topeka, Kansas, where I’d wait with anticipation of casting votes behind a curtain on a huge machine and then, when all my votes were set, pulling that big lever from right to left.

I don’t take for granted that true patriots fought for my right to vote, both those in uniform who protected my freedom, and those who worked to pass the 19th Amendment, giving women the right to vote.

Voting is both a right and a privilege. I can proudly say that I’ve never missed voting in any election since that first time I voted in November of 1976. If you are registered, vote. If you aren’t, get registered and start voting. Participate in the process because it does make a difference.