I didn't really have words all day, but now I have many.

I'm not good at short, hot takes on twitter, so instead here's a long thread -- my reflections on a movement that changed America forever.

If you ask me, the most powerful moment of this campaign was in Queens, NY on October 19, 2019. Bernie's first rally after the heart attack.

At the very end of his speech, he addressed the 25,000 person crowd:

"I want you to do me a favor. Take a look around. Find someone who you don't know. Maybe someone who doesn't look like you. My question now to you is: are you willing to fight for that person who you don't even know as much as you're willing to fight for yourself?"

I've watched the recording of that moment a few times over today. Each time has me welling up in tears. Yes, they are tears of grief. Sadness that we were so close to ushering in a new era of leadership and possibility. But they are also tears of deep, relentless hope.

On the wall next to my desk, I have pinned a photo of Bernie winning the race for mayor of Burlington in 1981. I love that image because I can't help but marvel at what had yet to come. What kind of paths are we paving for ourselves today that won't become clear for decades yet?

And my god, this movement is paving paths. In some short months, I've been transformed by my volunteers. Thousands of them who dedicated day in and day out, between jobs, parenting, and more.

It's always a gift to work with volunteers - to watch the spark light up inside of them, to help them grow and stretch and succeed. But to build something so big was something new. The sheer size of it all made it that much more special, made everything that much more possible.

And the Bernie organizing staff? You've never met a more talented bunch. Humble people. People who believe with all their heart in the principles that make a grassroots movement great.

I can't wait for us all to keep learning from these geniuses who could run circles around many institutions combined. Not a single one of us believed we were creating something for the short term. It was always, always building power for the long haul.

One of my favorite things that changed after that Queens rally was how Bernie seemed to laugh more often. Many of us commented on how he settled into just being himself. I can't help but take that lesson to heart in this moment.

As hardship and isolation seem to tighten their grip around us, it's not the only option to harden and clench fists, preparing for the next fight. It's also an option to settle, laugh, find the pieces of ourselves somewhere in this mess.

#ThankYouBernie for never allowing us to pin our hope on you alone. Thank you for the mantra of #NotMeUs. What we've done together will outlast whatever happens next. Let's remember that our campaign already won the next generation.

It's up to us now. It's our turn.