How Can You Not be Moved

20 Jan

I can’t breathe. My eyes are watering. My nose HURTS from all the wiping. The trashcans are filling up with used Kleenex…

TMI? Okay, I’ll be more succinct. I’m still sick.

I don’t know where this cold came from. (Eric, I think, but I can’t be sure.) It doesn’t matter really. I’ll get better. But for now, I’m happy. Since I am sick and there’s not a lot for me to do at the office, I took a sick day. What a day to be sick. I can lay on the couch, all snuggled up with my critters, and watch TV.

That’s not usually a very appealing thought. Since usually I’d be stuck watching stuff like Jerry Springer, or reruns of old movies, or perhaps a How It’s Made marathon. But today, I have a warm, front row seat to the most historic inauguration in history.

I’m not a political person. I didn’t vote for Obama. But how can you not be moved by this occasion?

I’m a sentimental sap. I admit it. But this is huge.

The National Mall is a sea of people. It’s been packed for hours despite below-freezing temperatures. I can only imagine the energy.

There was a very old African American man on the news last night. He’s lived through a lot. Just imagine what this day means to him. A man who himself picked cotton. A man who himself was told, numerous times, he wasn’t good enough to be in the company of white folks.

Can you imagine, really, what this day means for him and others like him?

I’m not thrilled to have a Democrat in power. But I am thrilled by what today represents. And now, I’m going to sit back, wait for the drugs to kick in, and enjoy it.