I am at home, in fleece pants and a long sleeve t-shirt from one of my high school clubs. I am home on a Tuesday, because it snowed three inches in Raleigh, North Carolina last night. Snow days never lose their appeal. Even though I can log into my office remotely, writing code documentation in fleece pants has its benefits.
My laptop is in my lap, and I am streaming CNN because I don't have cable. Josh is sitting behind me with his chin on my shoulder. We watching the inauguration, and we are happy. I was one of the people who a year ago would have said that this country was not ready to elect a black president. Now I'm one of the people filled with hope - totally naive and unassailable hope.
Sometimes the video freezes as my connection tries to catch up with all the history that is being sent through the air in my apartment. But the audio keeps going, and I'm glad that I won't have to watch it on YouTube later. I'm trying to pick up which line will be the sound bite that will be played over and over, both tonight and tomorrow and fifty years from now.
I'm trying to take a mental snapshot of this moment, so that when my kids ask about it, I'll be able to tell them the story. The story about the snow and the fleece pants and the laptop and the hope.