The Josiah E. Bartlet Presidential Library-Challenge response
There are certain days that you wait for and anticipate and dream about for
years. Today is one of those days, for
me at least. It's the opening of the
Josiah E. Bartlet Presidential Library.
An occasion years in the making, decades I suppose would be more
accurate, and the day has finally arrived.
Like so many November days before it the weather is chilly with a sharp
breeze that brings down the last remaining leaves of autumn. The rest of the world would probably describe
it as cold, not Jed, he'd prefer crisp.
To me, it's bordering on cold so I've decided to trade my navy skirt and
blazer for a brown pants suit. And since
the weather man is calling for flurries, I trade my high heeled boots in for
something a little more suited to the unpredictable New
Hampshire weather.
It seems like we left the White House at least ten years ago, instead of a
mere few years ago. The weather that day
was much like it is today. Nice for the
moment, but having the potential to bring down months of careful planning and
well orchestrated events. Like that day,
we have alternate arrangements made for all kinds of weather and other man made
disasters.
It's very early as I sit in the kitchen of our farmhouse. Everyone else is still asleep. As I drink my tea I look at the door to the
refrigerator. With various magnets,
clips and tape a good part of the front of it is filled with pictures of all
different kinds. There are school pictures
with missing teeth and cowlicks, wedding pictures with white lace and white
ties, candid shots of everyday situations and even a few ultrasound
pictures. Interspersed with the
photographs are children's drawings, handprints and art projects. A few newspaper clippings round out the
collection. About once a year I
rearrange things, adding some things, updating the photos and making room for
more treasures that get sent to me from all over the country.
My refrigerator is a glimpse into the lives of Jed's former staffers, many
of whom will join together later today at the dedication ceremony. As usually happens, really looking at this
collection gets me a little nostalgic and a little weepy. I think of all the blood, sweat and tears
that went into Jed's administration.
Sometimes I think the cost of it all was much too great, in our lives as
well as the lives of his staff.
It nearly cost Josh his life. To this very day Josh still suffers lingering
effects of that awful night in Rosslyn.
But if the recent picture Donna sent me of Josh and their newborn son,
James playing on the floor is any indication, Josh is managing to push aside
most of the lingering pain and stiffness I know still plagues him. The look on his face in that picture is one
of pure joy. He jokes about being a
senior citizen by the time James and his older sister Nellie graduate high
school but those 2 kids have brought joy and happiness back into Josh's life as
had being married to Donna.
Matching kindergarten pictures of Huck and Molly are stuck next to the
picture of Josh and James. The twins
were blessed with their mothers red hair and very little of Toby's
grumpiness. After spending the first two
years of his children's lives trying to win back their mother, Toby gave up
about the time we left the White House.
But stuck in the upper corner of the freezer door is a small clipping
from the Washington Post, a marriage announcement that took all over us by
surprise, probably Toby most of all. He
and Andi have settled down in Manhattan,
where Toby teaches at CCNY and Andi is easing into the life of an ex-member of
the United States House of Representatives.
Tucked under a little drawing done by Molly is a picture of CJ on the beach
in California. When our time in Washington was coming to a
close, the thought of endless summer and a chance at a life now where near as
hectic as inside the Beltway were enough to send CJ back to Southern
California. After a year of near
anonymity, she's back in public relations with a healthly dose of consulting on
the side. Her name pops up in magazines
now and then and she does keep in touch fairly regularly. I haven't seen her in almost a year and I'm
looking forward to catching up later today.
There's a picture of Sam and his wife Jane from their wedding last
year. He can't be here today, Jane is
days away from giving birth to their first child. It's a boy, according to the ultrasound. They promised to come out for a visit in the
spring. I should clear a spot on the
fridge for the first baby pictures which will hopefully arrive soon.
There's a new photo of Annie and Curtis under the photos of Huck and
Molly. When we left the White House, Jed
and I asked Curtis to come with us to New Hampshire. Part driver, part handyman, part friendly ear
he's been a stabilizing presence. And
within a month of arriving here, he'd caught the eye of Annie. They got engaged over the summer and we
couldn't be happier.
In a relatively uncluttered spot in the center of the freezer door is a
picture of Jed and Leo. It was taken on
the front porch, both of them sitting on the swing. Taken six months ago, it
shows two old friends, each showing the effects of time and disease. Jed's holding his cane and the top few
buttons of Leo's shirt are undone, revealing the top of the surgical scar. But both are smiling and the picture is one I
will treasure always.
It's the last picture I have of the two of them.
"Abbey, you should get ready," a voice drifts down the hallway.
"I will," I call back as I glance at the clock over the
sink. The first few guests should be
arriving within the hour and I need to get moving.
*************
Time to go. CJ and the rest of the
family are here. Everyone else is
meeting us at the library.
I slip into the car, taking a seat next to CJ. We're all here but one.
"I'm coming," the last person calls from the front door where
he's struggling to button his coat.
I turn and smile, holding out my hand to help him in the car.
"Ready to go?" I ask as he settles into the seat opposite from
me.
Leo just nods and smiles.
THE END
