This morning, my four-year old told me she was excited it was today, Election Day.
I was a little surprised that she remembered.
Oh, yes, she said, they were getting to vote at preschool today. They would vote on what special snack they would have: pizza or popsicles.
Popsicles, unsurprisingly, won by a landslide.
Then tonight, before bed, before it was announced that Barack Obama had been elected the 44th president of the United States, we sat in our usual nighttime spot, our rocking chair, the one my mom rocked me in when I was a baby and my sister too.
As we rocked and talked, her feet dangling way down near mine, her long body all pretzeled up in my own, she said to me:
"I like that Barack Obama. He is a good person. I think he will be a good president."
And I told her I agreed.
She also told me she thought he was pretty.
I told her I agreed.
I cannot wait to tell her tomorrow that the pretty, good person won. That the good person, the best person won. And that I believe her life, the lives of all of us will be better for it. That forty years after someone had a dream, it actually came true.
I cannot wait to tell her.
And when I do, first thing tomorrow, I'm betting she will say two things. One: oh, that's good. And two: what do we have for breakfast?
And I will get her breakfast and I will pack lunches and I will find her brother's tiny orange basketball for him and I will make beds and answer email but it will all be better and done with less anxiety in my heart than I've had in a long while and I will breathe easier and I will be grateful, grateful to be here seeing our country doing well. Moving forward. Making change. Having hope. Believing.
And for today, that is exactly enough.