a year of morning thanks
My mother has mellowed, and it makes me proud and happy. A few of my friends have not; they see a disaster a'comin' at ten this morning, when Obama sweeps out the cobwebs from a long night of partying and begins work as the 44th President of these United States. "The press complained when Bush's inaugural cost 40 million, but nobody says a thing now," an old friend muttered at me yesterday. He's still mad.
But Mom told me she thinks she's going to like this guy and his pretty wife and cute kids. Mom told me she thinks he might even be good for this country. She may have been playing me--in the same conversation, she said she was still trying to figure out exactly where the two of us departed in our ideas about things. But I don't think she was fibbing. Mom doesn't lie, and she watched the inauguration all day yesterday. She told me Monday night that she was looking forward to it.
A local Christian high school did a mock election in November. I don't remember exactly, but I thought the numbers were somewhere in the area of 85% for McCain. In 2004, 86% of the county voted for Bush, and Bush won Iowa. Four years later, McCain got smacked in Iowa by nine percentage points; but here in Sioux County, he won handily--82% wanted him, the highest percentage win in Iowa. Obama supporters, meanwhile, were rare as jackrabbits. The most incredible moment of the campaign, for me at least, happened when my grandson, a kindergartner, climbed into my lap on election day, looked up at me and said, "Barack Obama kills babies." I didn't know he knew who Obama was.
I really have no idea what it must have been like for eighty-some percent of the county to have watched yesterday's inauguration. I watched the ceremony, but little else. Truly, there isn't much left to say that hasn't been said. I believe--as I have from the very beginning two years ago--we're in good hands.
And my mom, at ninety, who gave me so much grief, says she's actually coming to like him.
That fact alone, this morning, is reason to give thanks.