Such a day it was yesterday across America with the announcement that former Vice President Joe Biden had been elected the 46th President of the United States of America.
His running mate Sen. Kamala Harris and new Vice President-elect made history as the first woman of color to be elected Vice President.
Church bells rang both in America and across Europe.
Quickly assembled bands played.
Virtual toasts were exchanged.
Colorful fireworks shot into the air.
People danced joyfully in streets and squares all across America.
Speeches by both the President-elect and his running mate in Wilmington, Delaware inspired Biden-Harris supporters and hopefully offered a sense of hope and welcome to those who did not vote for him.
It was truly a monumental day in our history.
While all this was happening, many of us tended to whatever was on the Saturday calendar. In my case, a day-long meeting; in Bill's case, his wood pile, and I know that in Annie's case, it was a visit to a new place.
She spent the weekend in the San Juan Islands, as an escape from her tiny apartment in Seattle where she lives and works remotely.
One time during the day, she sent a picture (below) with a note: this looks a lot like Ireland. Indeed, it did. And, of course, the Irish Setter in the sculpture added a sense of Gaelic ambiance.
I learned this morning that President-elect Joe Biden's ancestors came from Ballina, Ireland, in County Mayo, where locals celebrated yesterday.
Ballina is due north from Galway about 50 minutes from Westport, which we have visited. Could be we even drove through his ancestral home last fall.
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And, so, the work begins as we turn this page in history and move on with what's central in our personal lives, all in the midst of a Pandemic.
Age and experience remind us that moments of pure joy can quickly turn right back to reality when we see that all are not so happy. With the reality switch on, we remember that forces beyond our control lurk as Covid continues to spread at higher-than-ever rates.
As always, temporary moments of euphoria can quickly replaced by the sheer reality of tables constantly turning and the knowledge that we must continue to put one foot in front of the other and soldier on.
Doing so with grace, no matter our story---that is always the challenge and always the true reflection of who we are.
Happy Sunday.
GO, SEAHAWKS and soon, GO, ZAGS.
The pages of life keep turning.
I Hear America Singing
BY Walt whitman
I hear America singing, the varied carols I hear,
Those of mechanics, each one singing his as it should be blithe and strong,
The carpenter singing his as he measures his plank or beam,
The mason singing his as he makes ready for work, or leaves off work,
The boatman singing what belongs to him in his boat, the deckhand singing on the steamboat deck,
The shoemaker singing as he sits on his bench, the hatter singing as he stands,
The wood-cutter’s song, the ploughboy’s on his way in the morning, or at noon intermission or at sundown,
The delicious singing of the mother, or of the young wife at work, or of the girl sewing or washing,
Each singing what belongs to him or her and to none else,
The day what belongs to the day—at night the party of young fellows, robust, friendly,
Singing with open mouths their strong melodious songs.
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from Irish Nobel Laureate Seamus Heaney, a segment read by President-elect Joe Biden
History says, don't hope
On this side of the grave.
But then, once in a lifetime
The longed-for tidal wave
Of justice can rise up,
And hope and history rhyme.
Below, from a Facebook friend's wall . . .
from my Irish friend Eileen's Facebook wall . . .and probably many more walls . . . .
Rosa sat, so Ruby could walk, so Kamala could run.
Idaho - I doubt you are listening, but I have to say this. No matter how bad you thought we were or were not in the past, we are way worse today.
We have levels of community transmission that most of us could not even have imagined a few months ago, when we thought it was bad.
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In his speech last night, President-elect Joe Biden quoted from the song below. It is always inspirational , but remembering that it was the last song sung at my mother's funeral brings me special meaning.
My mother would have wanted to dance in the streets yesterday, waving her American flag.
Instead, she probably danced in Heaven with our friends Betsy and Monica.
On Eagle's Wings
Michael Joncas
You who dwell in the shelter of the Lord
Who abide in His shadow for life
Say to the Lord, "My refuge, my rock in whom I trust!"
And He will raise you up on eagles' wings
Bear you on the breath of dawn
Make you to shine like the sun
And hold you in the palm of His hand
The snare of the fowler will never capture you
And famine will bring you no fear
Under His wings your refuge, His faithfulness your shield
And He will raise you up on eagles' wings
Bear you on the breath of dawn
Make you to shine like the sun
And hold you in the palm of His hand
You need not fear the terror of the night
Nor the arrow that flies by day
Though thousands fall about you, near you it shall not come
And He will raise you up on eagles' wings
Bear you on the breath of dawn
Make you to shine like the sun
And hold you in the palm of His hand
For to His angels He's given a command
To guard you in all of your ways
Upon their hands they will bear you up
Lest you dash your foot against a stone
And He will raise you up on eagles' wings
Bear you on the breath of dawn
Make you to shine like the sun
And hold you in the palm of His hand
1 comment:
I love your blog Marianne, especially thoughtful today. You’re a calming influence I have to say.
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