The obituaries of Hillary Clinton's campaign have been streaming in for a while now, but as it becomes clear that votes in Florida and Michigan will not be counted, nor will voters in those states have an opportunity to re-vote, the picture is becoming increasingly clear:

Obama will be the nominee.

I know some of you will say this picture has been clear for a while.  You will post comments and links and graphs and charts about The Math.  You will explain that the writing has been on the wall, but that Clinton supporters (or Clintonistas, Clinton Clingers, Hillbots -- fill in your preferred nickname here) have been desperately clinging to denial in the hopes of a miracle.

Well, there will be no miracle.  Hillary will not be the nominee.

But before you start dancing on her grave (well, those of you who haven't already started dancing, anyway), hear my appeal to your better natures.

Please celebrate your victory win graciousness.  Please understand that for some of us, for many of us, there is a great sadness in realizing that Hillary Clinton will not be our nominee.  She will not be our president.

I've seen the diaries, the comments, the testimonials about Obama.  I understand that for many people in this country, he represents the kind of hope people seek.  He represents an opportunity people didn't really believe possible.  He represents greatness and goodness.  I can appreciate your feelings on the topic, even if I don't share them.

But for me, and for others, we found our hope in Hillary Clinton.  Certainly, she represented something different, but still great.  I look at her, and I see a woman who has worked all her life, worked so hard, worked without thanks, worked under seemingly unbearable conditions, to get where she is today.  And while some may say she wouldn't be where she is today but for the man she married, I disagree.  

Long before she became Mrs. Clinton, she was a phenomenal woman in her own right.  She was that nerdy girl in school who not only turned in her homework on time, but always went for the extra credit.  She was the girl who sat in the front row, always with her hand in the air, ready to give the answer, while the cool kids snickered at her glasses and her clothes.  

She was judged for her marriage in a way most people on the planet can never understand.  First, she was criticized for not taking her husband's name.  Lately, she's been criticized for using her husband's name.  

In 1992, we judged her hair, her clothes, her cookie recipe.  Later, we condemned her for staying with her cheating husband.  What kind of a woman would stay with a man who humiliates her like that?  What kind of feminist would tolerate that kind of treatment?

As a senator, we certainly judged her, perhaps most harshly for her 2002 Iraq vote.  

I know I did.

When she cast that vote, I wrote her off.  I didn't care how impressive a biography she had; I was done with her.  There was nothing she would ever be able to do to redeem herself in my eyes.

Well...

Last fall, listening to the Democratic debates, I started to remember what I liked about her.  I remembered what it felt like when I was in school, and I'd get teased for wearing glasses, for always having the right answer, for trying to compete with the boys.  I found myself in awe of her again.  Despite wanting to hate her, to reject her, I found myself drawn in.  Her astounding command of any topic amazed me.  Inspired me.  Impressed me.

Made me think, "Yeah, that's the kind of person I want sitting in the Oval Office."

The fact that she is a woman certainly played a role.  When I went to see her speak a few weeks ago, and she was discussing how her health care plan would encompass all kinds of treatment and doctors, including midwives, I thought, That's why I want a woman in the White House.  What man would even think about midwives?  What do men know of childbirth?  What do they care?

As a friend said to me recently, "I'd just like to have a vagina in the White House for once."

It wasn't because she was woman.  I don't support Emily's List; I certainly don't subscribe to the notion of supporting a candidate only because she's a woman.  But I won't lie -- it made a difference to me.  All candidates being equal, yes, I'd rather have the woman.  If Pakistan can do it, so can we.

I won't defend what she or her campaign or her surrogates have said or done.  That's not what this diary is about.

And I won't lay out the reasons why I dislike Obama.  That's not what this is about either.

This is simply a reminder that for many of us, it is a loss.  It is a disappointment.  We believed she would make the best president, and now the dream seems dead.  

So...

The race is not over yet.  Obama still has not won the requisite delegates to secure the nomination, and she has not conceded.  I have never been a fan of the idea that the superdelegates would give the nomination to Hillary based solely on a belief that she'd be the better nominee.  In my opinion, they would be justified in doing so only if she nearly tied Obama in delegates and/or tied or surpassed him in the popular vote.

And without including Michigan and Florida, I admit that is impossible.

But I am sad.  I am sad that I will not get to vote for Hillary in November.  And, at the risk of opening myself up to accusations of racism, I will even admit that I'm sad that once again, it would appear that a black man gets there first.  First to vote, first to be elected, first to the Supreme Court.  I don't deny the importance of it; it would be nice, though, if just once, a woman could break through first.

I believe the party will come together again.  This country is amazingly resillient, and if we can unite after a long, deadly, bloody Civil War, we can certainly unite after a contentious primary battle.  

But as you celebrate, as you dance on her grave, as you post your diaries of triumph, try to have a little respect for those of us who consider this a loss and a disappointment.

No matter how much hatred you have of Hillary, her campaign, her supporters, and yes, even her husband, it is important to try to be gracious winners.  

I think even Obama himself would agree with that.