I was choked up and moved by the inauguration ceremony. I couldn't get enough of the minutiae reporting. How far had people walked? What did Michelle give to Laura? Where was everybody from? Gloves or mittens? I loved all of it. But best of all, was watching our new president proudly take office at a time of such discord and strife, with true hope and a call to duty in his heart and in his words. I feel very honored to be an American today.
This speech, his last speech, gives me chills every time I hear it. The power of Dr. King and the righteousness of his message still resonates. Tuesday's inauguration is a testament to his memory, and to all those he inspired; those who made sacrifices, large and small, in order to do the right thing.
My middle boy is now ten. He is thrilled and happy to be ten. Happy to be on his way in the world, getting older and bigger. He notices that he can leap to the chin-up bar and his feet barely graze the floor now. Almost like his older brother.
He can leap farther across his bedroom almost to his brother's bed and he measures up to the bottom of my chin, his hand moving from the top of his blond head to my chest. He is loving and very forgiving, and he just sang a season of Christmas carols for us while he played piano.
This past year, he grew his hair out long until it went past his shoulders...like his older brother. Then, he recently decided to cut it short and he was glad to make the decision. He was happy to be free of the hair. Today, my mom gave him a lovely pure white stone that she found on the beach. She said that when she saw it, she knew he should have it. It is smooth and bright and softened. He loves it.
I am watching him get older before my eyes, and I miss the littler boy he once was.
I try not to dwell on that too much, though, because soon I will miss now, too.