All around the blogosphere, my favorite bloggers are sharing their joy at the election results. People are telling the stories of last night's laughter and champagne, they are talking about the speeches, they are describing the first moment when they realized it was really going to happen.
I was going to try not to add to it, but I just can't keep still.
My mind keeps coming back to the same phrase:
It's morning in America.
Obviously, it is a comically huge misuse to connect this particular phrase with what has happened over the past 24 hours (and the months before). And I hope Reagan is rolling over in his grave, because this phrase does speak to how I feel today.
The last 8 years have been, in many ways, like a long, dark night, filled with horrifying dreams from which we can't wake up. And then, last night, that man, a man of a new color and a new path, stood up there, and he smiled, and he spoke, and day dawned. And now, it's morning in America.
He said, poignantly, I thought, that this is our time. What are we going to do with our day?