And the tears flowed

What an evening! The tears flowed freely. I did not believe I would live to see this day! My heart and my spirit are full! As an African American woman, I wanted to stand on the roof and shout! I wanted to set off firecrackers! I wanted to shout! I wanted to give thanks, thanks to all those who fought, marched and even died so that this day would one day come. I am so proud, not only of our new president, but of my country. This is not just a victory for African Americans, but is a victory for our country as a whole. One hundred and forty-three years after U.S. slavery ended. One hundred forty-nine years since the death of John Brown. One hundred thirteen years since the death of Frederick Douglass. Sixty-eight years since the death of Marcus Garvey. Forty-five years since the death of W.E.B. Du Bois. Forty-three years since the assassination of Malcolm X. Forty years since the assassination of Dr. King. Three years since the death of Rosa Parks. I am thankful to all of them and to all the many others who lived and often sacrificed their lives for this day. We owe them all our thanks.

The images from around the country were moving. Jessie Jackson, who marched with Dr. King and was with him when he was assassinated openly shed tears. The students at Spellman who shouted with joy, hugged each other and cried. Mothers in Chicago who brought their children to Grant Park wanting them to witness and be a part of this day.

I hugged my son and told him that this means that anything he dreams is possible. My grandson can now point to someone who looks like him and say, "I want to be president like him." My forebears are looking down relishing this day. My Dad is looking down beaming.

I am bursting, beaming and bawling.

Hope prevails.

Blessings,
T