I Just Woke Up

and showered. It is 12:47 a.m. In another two hours or so, I will be leaving on the trip of a lifetime- to see Barack H. Obama become the American President.

It snowed all day long and the roads are covered in snow and ice. I am afraid we will slide off the road or into another car. I am afraid we will hit a deer- or an elk, like we did last time I tried to go to Washington DC. I am afraid we will get in any sort of accident, really.

I am afraid that once there will be catastrophe on the train- a derailment or some such thing. I'm afraid there will be terrorists on the train who will shoot us or blow us up. For that matter, I'm afraid there will be a nutcase that ISN'T a terrorist on the train. I am afraid there will be a terrorist plot to blow up the whole train line, even. Or maybe just that we'll miss the train and not be able to get into DC.

I am afraid that, once we are there, something tragic will happen and either President Obama or all of us will get shot or blown up. I am afraid there will be some kind of gases released into the air. I'm afraid that when I am running around in Washington, I will get mugged. I am afraid I will miss the train and not be able to get back to Baltimore.

I am a worrier. I have spent a lot of time coming up with things to be afraid of, not by choice, of course, but just because that's how I am. But even with such a long list of things I am afraid of, there is one thing that scares me more than any of it.

I am afraid I will wake up and find out that this has all been a dream.

I am afraid I will suddenly come to realize that I did not spend 4 months of my life knocking on doors and making phone calls and living and breathing and eating and sleeping Barack Obama. I am afraid I will find out that on November 4th, I did not watch the television in half joyful, half terrified silence as Barack Obama stood on a stage in Grant Park and accepted the role of President of the United States of America. I am afraid I will discover that I did not really break down in tears outside of a Ernie's Irish Pub as it began to sink in that everything I had done was not in vain, and that I did not continue to cry all night long as I saw that every single candidate I had worked for succeeded.

I am afraid I will wake up and George W. Bush will still be our president and there will be no change and no hope and no call to all of us to make the world a better place to live.

That is what scares me most of all.

I'm pretty sure it will all be okay, though, in just a couple hours when Chris and I embark on our journey. In another hour and a half or so, he will call me and say that he is awake and getting ready. I will pack my car and drive to his house, stopping at the gas station and McDonald's and to pay my lot rent along the way. I will get to his house, put my things in his car, fire up my GPS, and we will be on our way. When day breaks, we will be driving through lower Michigan, finding beauty along the way in the winter splendor of the Northwoods. We will be on our way to seeing this thing that we worked so hard for finally become reality.

Maybe over the course of this trip, and over the course of the journey we are embarking on as a nation, some of the fear will go away.