Waiting to Exhale

We're only 24 hours from the possible first African American president.

I think about the magnitude of "what if?" and and my eyes well up. I start humming, "Never would have maaade it", but then I stop myself. I can't give into the fullness of the emotion that simmers right above an emotion that I've never felt before. I can't define this emotion because I won't let myself go there just yet — but, whatever this is, it's directly related to the fact that we may possibly see history with the first Black President of these great United States of America.

So this what white people feel like when they think of their country and their American President?

So, I'm overwhelmed with pre-emotion. I fully expect to wail, play Marvin Sapp's song, drop to my knees praising God, and otherwise just act a natural black thankful fool. I haven't anticipated "tomorrow" this much since I still believed in Santa Claus.

We are thisclose to break dancing with happiness. Thisclose to weeping tears of joy and FINALLY! thisclose to feeling as much pride as one can feel in someone not their parent, self, or child. Oh yeah, we are about to be some happy, whistling, chest poked out folk for a minute. Hopefully, after we get through poppin bottles, we can get our own -ish together.

But, first, I just want to exhale. I'm ready to KNOW it's going to be....

Obama/Biden '08