This morning I am filled with hope. I’m also feeling cautious. It’s hard not to in my household. I voted for President Obama, heart full of pride and admiration, knowing he was what I wanted for our country. My husband did not. My husband is not hopeful, but wary. I respect his opinions on this and know  that at the end of the day, he may be right – but that I may be right, too. I think we both would rather I be right at this point. But until then, we agree to disagree.

So when I take a moment to revel in my hope, I typically have to take a moment to acknowledge his fears and concerns, too. They are real. America is at a place right now where change is going to happen – will it be the good change we all hope for and deserve? Or will mistakes be made? I think it’s safe to assume not everything will go as planned. There is a chance Mr. Obama will not be the man we are hoping for – there is always that chance. We might become embittered once again.

But when I read this letter printed in Parade Magazine that Barack Obama wrote to his daughters (which has since been blogged about by many, including but likely not limited to McMommy and my bestie Ange), it renews my hope. When I hear him speak about his hopes for our country, it renews my hope. When I see the excitement rippling throughout the internet about the hope others are feeling, it renews my hope. So I am cautious, but hopeful, as always. If you haven’t read this letter yet, you should:

Dear Malia and Sasha,

I know that you’ve both had a lot of fun these last two years on the campaign trail, going to picnics and parades and state fairs, eating all sorts of junk food your mother and I probably shouldn’t have let you have.
But I also know that it hasn’t always been easy for you and Mom, and that as excited as you both are about that new puppy, it doesn’t make up for all the time we’ve been apart. I know how much I’ve missed these past two years, and today I want to tell you a little more about why I decided to take our family on this journey.

When I was a young man, I thought life was all about me-about how I’d make my way in the world, become successful, and get the things I want.

But then the two of you came into my world with all your curiosity and mischief and those smiles that never fail to fill my heart and light up my day. And suddenly, all my big plans for myself didn’t seem so important anymore.

I soon found that the greatest joy in my life was the joy I saw in yours.
And I realized that my own life wouldn’t count for much unless I was able to ensure that you had every opportunity for happiness and fulfillment in yours. In the end, girls, that’s why I ran for President: because of what I want for you and for every child in this nation.

I want all our children to go to schools worthy of their potential–schools that challenge them, inspire them, and instill in them a sense of wonder about the world around them.

I want them to have the chance to go to college–even if their parents aren’t rich.

And I want them to get good jobs: jobs that pay well and give them benefits like health care, jobs that let them spend time with their own kids and retire with dignity.

I want us to push the boundaries of discovery so that you’ll live to see new technologies and inventions that improve our lives and make our planet cleaner and safer. And I want us to push our own human boundaries to reach beyond the divides of race and region, gender and religion that keep us from seeing the best in each other.

Sometimes we have to send our young men and women into war and other dangerous situations to protect our country-but when we do, I want to make sure that it is only for a very good reason, that we try our best to settle our differences with others peacefully, and that we do everything possible to keep our servicemen and women safe. And I want every child to understand that the blessings these brave Americans fight for are not free-that with the great privilege of being a citizen of this nation comes great responsibility.

That was the lesson your grandmother tried to teach me when I was your age, reading me the opening lines of the Declaration of Independence and telling me about the men and women who marched for equality because they believed those words put to paper two centuries ago should mean something.

She helped me understand that America is great not because it is perfect but because it can always be made better–and that the unfinished work of perfecting our union falls to each of us. It’s a charge we pass on to our children, coming closer with each new generation to what we know America should be.

I hope both of you will take up that work, righting the wrongs that you see and working to give others the chances you’ve had. Not just because you have an obligation to give something back to this country that has given our family so much-although you do have that obligation.
But because you have an obligation to yourself.
Because it is only when you hitch your wagon to something larger than yourself that you will realize your true potential.

These are the things I want for you–to grow up in a world with no limits on your dreams and no achievements beyond your reach, and to grow into compassionate, committed women who will help build that world. And I want every child to have the same chances to learn and dream and grow and thrive that you girls have. That’s why I’ve taken our family on this great adventure.

I am so proud of both of you. I love you more than you can ever know. And I am grateful every day for your patience, poise, grace, and humor as we prepare to start our new life together in the White House.

Love, Dad