Memorial
Dear Self,
Maybe don't bring up 9/11. Maybe don't mention how you've been trying not to think about it or all of the memorials and talks that you'd actually, for the first time in five years, like to go to. But instead: work. Work today. If you're going to think about everything that has changed, try to think of the good and small things. If you're going to think about suffering, think about easing it somehow.
It is what it is.
Please get out of bed. Find something to wear that does not require ironing, because damnit, you're going to be late. (Except sometimes being late can save a person, remember? So many people have stories like that.)
Please don't turn on the tv. Don't pick up the paper. You know what happened.
Remember?
♦
ETA:
9:20 am: Somehow I was not expecting this, but holy god it is sad out there today. I was okay until I stepped outside. It's beautiful out, sunny and clear with the scent of fall, but the entire city feels like a bruise. Really all I feel is all of our grief, very deep and in every molecule.
Coming out of the subway, through the tunnel that leads to the stairs that lead to the street, a man was walking in the other direction, smiling and shouting "Mahatma Gandhi! Mahatma Gandhi!" over and over. I turned to the lady walking next to me, a nurse in scrubs, and told her that was the best crazy thing I've heard all week. She agreed.
Maybe don't bring up 9/11. Maybe don't mention how you've been trying not to think about it or all of the memorials and talks that you'd actually, for the first time in five years, like to go to. But instead: work. Work today. If you're going to think about everything that has changed, try to think of the good and small things. If you're going to think about suffering, think about easing it somehow.
It is what it is.
Please get out of bed. Find something to wear that does not require ironing, because damnit, you're going to be late. (Except sometimes being late can save a person, remember? So many people have stories like that.)
Please don't turn on the tv. Don't pick up the paper. You know what happened.
Remember?
♦
ETA:
9:20 am: Somehow I was not expecting this, but holy god it is sad out there today. I was okay until I stepped outside. It's beautiful out, sunny and clear with the scent of fall, but the entire city feels like a bruise. Really all I feel is all of our grief, very deep and in every molecule.
Coming out of the subway, through the tunnel that leads to the stairs that lead to the street, a man was walking in the other direction, smiling and shouting "Mahatma Gandhi! Mahatma Gandhi!" over and over. I turned to the lady walking next to me, a nurse in scrubs, and told her that was the best crazy thing I've heard all week. She agreed.

