An Amazing Moment in American History

I just spoke to my 33-year-old babe and my 89-year-old boss, the two most important women in my life.  My daughter and my mom.   Two very brilliant, wonderful, godly women.   Daughter is crying uncontrollably.  Mom is her cool self.  One would think that my babe experienced the ugliness of the 20th century rather than the Boss.  

In the middle of the crying babe and cool boss, I am stunned.  For every hour of this day I felt confident that my candidate would prevail.  This is the same man who, when he announced his candidacy, I said that boy must be losing his mind.  Still, the projections that I find so annoying, even at this moment, tell me that what I hoped for (even as I thought it impossible), has come to pass.   

Why is it that being only 7 years older, the differences between us seem to span generations?  When I look in the mirror I see a 54-year-old woman.  When I think of my life's experiences, I feel as old as my mother.   Perhaps the wellspring of hope that overflows in the heart and soul of Mr. Obama, is now but a trickle in mine.   Considering that I have number of years left before my life can be one of a more leisurely pace as the Boss's, it appears to be a good idea for this writer to rework that well.   

Yes, this is truly an amazing moment in American History, one that I will not forget, the eve of my father's 101st birthday, the beginning of a new era in our country.   What I realize is that this amazing moment will be for me nothing other than a fond memory unless I rework my well and find therein not just a wellspring, but a geyser of hope (at my age I need the extra pressure).  And with that hope I must keep going -- even when doors are closed, bonds are broken, contracts are breached, and the light at the end of the tunnel is but a pinhead.   This amazing moment in American history is nothing if I stop trying.