A Big Day

... and a boring title, but it's only 7:45 a.m., too early an hour to be creative. I've never been a good title-creator anyway -- content, fine, but titles, forget it.

Anyway ... Aidan was pretty excited this morning that "Rock Obama," as my kids think he is called (and we don't bother to correct their cuteness) was going to become our 44th President. That's a really big deal. I described to him what the inauguration will be like today, and since he has been to Washington, D.C. once he could picture what I was saying -- the crowd on the steps of the Capitol building, the throngs covering the Mall, the Washington Monument towering above it all on the other end. I was even getting excited for it.

Don and I had the privilege of attending the inauguration of Bill Clinton -- the second one, I guess it was. We lived in Alexandria, VA at the time, right over the river and a quick Metro ride from the city. We rose early on that freezing cold morning and made fresh, hot, homemade dill rolls which we stuffed in our pockets. It was a delicious moment, pulling out those still-warm, fresh rolls, munching away during the ceremony. It's funny how I so clearly remember that totally un-related detail. Anyway, I had to psych myself up a bit for the event, as I am not a real 'crowd-person,' but thankfully I am also not claustrophobic. If I was, the Metro ride alone would have sent me to an early demise. We were packed beyond imagination, but what made it bearable was the mood. These were not the over-tired, over-cranky commuters that I rode with every day to and from my work on Capitol Hill -- these were happy, excited, and over-joyed folks all participating in the same event. The jostling only produced more smiles, more conviviality -- it wasn't bad at all.

We were about halfway back on the grassy Mall, standing, and couldn't see much of anything, really. But we were there -- and it was so cool. We have one amazing photograph which Don took, as he stood tall among the crowd, lifting his one arm holding the binoculars, lifting the other arm holding the camera behind the binoculars' lens. The photo turned out surprisingly well, in a rather artistic way -- framed in black by the round lens, Bill and Hillary spot-on in the center. It's blurry and grainy, the figures still small, but Hillary in her bright pink suit clearly pops. It was truly an exciting, memorable day for us.

My friend Jen came to visit over the weekend, and we shared our inauguration stories. In high school, she attended the Bush-Quayle event, and she made a very interesting comment. Even though she was not a B-Q supporter, at that moment it just didn't matter. None of that had mattered anymore. She was part of something bigger, a moment that transcended who you liked or didn't. You were a part of an historic moment, a peaceful changing of the guard. The guy you voted for lost? Oh well -- so be it. We move on. We move forward. One man moves over for the next, peacefully and without incident. No violence, no bloodshed. It's an awesome thing, really. Today will be no different.

Something struck me last night as I was listening to an interview on NPR while whipping up a pot of turkey chili. I had only one ear turned toward the radio, so I didn't catch all the details (such as the name of the interviewer, nor the name of the interviewee) -- but the female interviewer was speaking to the man, a pastor I believe, who will be giving the benediction at the inauguration today. I think. Anyway, he sounded like an elderly gentleman, and at one point she asked him what it was like to speak to Mr. Obama for the first time on the phone. He said that at one point in the conversation they both suddenly fell silent. He didn't know why Mr. Obama was quiet, but for himself, he was suddenly and emotionally overcome by two facts: one, that he was really, truly speaking to the man who will soon be the "44th President of These United States." But secondly, he realized that for the first time, he will be able to look at our president and "see someone who looks just like me."

That comment really struck me. He went on to say that he was involved with the Civil Rights Movement in the 1960s, and while he and his friends and colleagues had faith that we would indeed see an African-American as President someday, none of them believed for moment that they would see it in their lifetimes. And yet ... here we are. You could hear the joy in his voice for not only witnessing something he never expected to see, but also being able to participate in such a day. It was a wonderful interview, to be sure. But again, his comment about finally being able to "see someone who looks just like me" really struck me. I recounted this later on to Don at dinner, and I said that we will never, ever be able to understand that. Sure, we can try to imagine it, or try to understand, or empathize to some degree -- but we will never be able to fully grasp what this means for the African-American citizens of our country. This is certainly a uniting event for all of us in this country, whether we voted for him or not. But for certain citizens, there's another level to this that I know I won't ever really relate to. The joy in that man's voice was a really neat, heart-swelling thing to hear.

My prayers are certainly with our soon-to-be president, his family, and all those who will be working with him over these next four years. We don't know the future, and I cannot begin to imagine the weighty mantle which will be placed on his shoulders in just a few short hours. He needs our prayers, whether we voted for him or not. Yes, this is a very big day -- an historic one, a monumental one, a memorable one.

It is pretty exciting, isn't it.