Watching preliminary events, running up to tomorrow’s inauguration, I feel…
I feel strange. Not at all how I expected to feel. As a matter of fact, I didn’t expect I would get the chance to sit back and consider how it feels to watch Obama inaugurated as the 44th President of the United States. I just didn’t expect him to win.
Today I watch as hundreds of thousands are breaking into celebration, full of hope and joy, that finally, something good just might occur. One man has held onto hope for us, and his election has set off a geyser of pent-up longing.
I find myself chagrined that I had stopped hoping; thinking I could be sitting here writing, “I just had that faith. Hope against hope, I believed, and look what happened. I just knew it!” as some of my friends today can claim. But not I.
I’ve often struggled with hope, and have often written my struggles publicly. Cynicism has been my shield and protector, oh these many years. Call me the sadder but wiser girl – woman – but hope is a fickle commodity, and disillusionment has been my unwelcome but constant shadow for too long. I had given up.
Today I feel…
I feel like I do when I’ve been sick for too long, and finally comes the day when I can feel myself getting better. I’ve been gone, and the world has gone on without me. I’ve been down, but others have taken up the fight. Those thousands upon thousands are dancing the dance of hope for me, while I sit and watch and weakly smile. Not quite up for dancing, but it’s nice to know that goodness happens still.
Thanks, Phyllis!
I understand the struggle to actually enter into hope. It always felt very sentimental and ignorant to me. But then I would look at people like Sue L. and think, I am dead wrong. Only problem was HOW did I become more like that being ME?
Wish I didn’t have to work tomorrow, would love to watch the inauguration, though I am sure I can catch the highlights on line. Enjoy.
Let’s be in touch soon. Have thought of you often, and am thrilled you’re going to have a granddaughter