Tears

I had no idea I would be so emotional on inauguration day. So. Emotional. Tears came frequently. They flowed silently down my cheek, a drop here, a drop there. A little sniffle. I didn’t have overpowering weeping. No sobbing. Just a day full of soft, baptismal tears reconnecting me to the experiment of being a multicultural people reclaiming the call to love one another.

Tears when: The lights of memory were lit to begin the day in the night. Seeing the people of different politics walking down the steps and greeting one another with genuine smiles twinkling from their eyes and hidden behind behind their masks. Seeing the flags on the mall and hanging on the Capitol replacing the Confederate Battle Flag that was hauntingly carried two weeks ago. Seeing honor for a Capitol police officer and the black band on the shields of others where their colleagues were recently attacked and beaten and even killed.

Tears when: The national anthem brought played and sung for battle-weary people who watched from sea to shining sea, and around the world. Hearing a woman repeat the oath of the Vice President. A woman. Hearing the oldest man to be sworn in, a man who suffers from stuttering, repeat the words clearly and with the soul of commitment to the office of the president. Hearing the youngest poet laureate preach it. Amazing Grace.

Tears when: The old-fashioned gentleman’s kindness appeared as the President walking his wife to the car and helping her in.  The thoroughly modern gentleness of a young woman offering her poetic vision of truth and hope and challenge to us all.  Gifts were given. Fashion commented upon.

Tears when: the snow fell, ever so briefly. Silence wafted through the cemetery. Taps.

Tennis shoes and dresses. Mittens. Solitude and lonely presence physically distanced and introverted.

Tears when: New orders were signed. Oaths administered for the first time. Black and Brown, Jew and Christian standing together. Colors, especially purple. Sunshine breaking through at just that moment.

Tears when: the broken window in the Capitol door opened and closed again.

Tears when: the fireworks ended and everyone was still alive. Including me, as breath finally came, easing me toward a new day, to rest and recuperation, that I might awaken and work for all the dreams that brought the tears and calling forth the sweat of laboring in love.