I finally crawled into bed with the clock closing in on three in the morning. I’d set my alarm for only a couple hours in the near future so that I’d have time to get to the Rally Bus leaving from my small town of Shepherdstown, West Virginia at 6:55. I wanted to arrive early to sit with a couple close female friends and my 59-year old mother. We came prepared with our charged cameras, snack-filled fanny packs, and child-like excitement — as if we were going to an amusement park.
The drive went by quickly as the dark skies gave way to the eager morning light. We shared the highway with countless buses, all heading in the same direction with the same destination with the same amount of determination.
“Is this what it feels like to be growing up?” I thought, as I remembered that my past feelings of excitement were linked to spontaneous adventures, late nights with friends or irresponsible decision-making.
No, this is what it feels like to be a part of a something big.