It wasn't always tears....

Something about the media's myopic focus on the aftermath irks me.  It's as if that was all there was to it -- rage and blind stupidity.  The dour iconography of an eternally pensive Martin and representations of Coretta as perpetually mourning leave me frustrated as well.  It's as if they were devoid of joy and laughter.  How sad, to deny them that freedom.  The freedom to smile and sing and dance and celebrate life.  It's insult to injury.   I never gave up on the dream; I'll be damned if I'll surrender the memories,  either.  

That is why it's particularly important to me on days like today, when we realize he's been gone longer than he was with us, that we remember it wasn't always tears...