MLK Jr.

Biddy and I took the train downtown today to meet daddy for lunch. 

On the way to B's office, we practiced shaking hands and saying, "Hi. Nice to meet you." Biddy was primed to greet B's coworkers. He was ready until he walked in and confronted six or so people, all excited to see him. Overwhelm took over and shyness ruled for about five minutes until the initial shock wore off. He never did shake hands with any of them but finally found his voice and jabbered up a storm. 

After about 20 minutes of Biddy cuteness and charm, the three of us left to enjoy the sunshine. Everyone in the office waved goodbye. One girl even told B, when he returned to the office, that Biddy had made her day. We got sandwiches and went to Yerba Buena park. A lovely spot with trees, flowers, a meadow perfect for a picnic, rocks to climb, and a beautiful waterfall. 

While eating, I asked B if he knew where the Martin Luther King Jr. exhibit was mounted. He didn't. After 9 years of living in San Francisco, I had only heard about it while watching the news the night before Obama's inauguration. San Francisco put on two very big, very public, viewing parties–one at the Civic Center (which is where we went) and the other at Yerba Buena near the MLK installation. 

After lunch, B and Biddy did some exploring while I closed my eyes and soaked up some sun. When they came back, B said they had seen a MLK quote etched into a wall near the waterfall. Turns out there is more than just one quote, there are at least ten. The waterfall itself is a monument to MLK–a testament to his vision, his movement, his strength and conviction.

We walked the path, through the falls and behind them, where MLK's most famous quotes lined the walls. The sound of the water was thunderous, evoking a feeling of what it might have been like to witness his "I Have A Dream" speech live. The energy authoritative yet uplifting.

I was swept away by the power of his words, the beauty of his message. Reading his quotes made me aspire to be bigger, better, bolder. MLK Jr. died just 2 1/2 months before I was born. I've grown up with him–this iconic larger-than-life figure but until today, haven't truly understood his power, his gift. The gift of connection, the gift of using ones voice to help, heal, ignite and unite in freedom. 

Biddy, B and I made wishes on pennies (and some dimes) and threw them in the water. Biddy's wish was, "for the people". His words, not mine. I thought them rather appropriate.