Do you remember where you were 6 years ago today? Of course you do. On that morning I was driving in our old Corolla to Target, having just moved into a new house and in need of furnishings. Flash was with me; he was almost 2. We heard the 1st tower fall on NPR. I chatted with the cashier about it, returned to the car, and then realized that it was now two towers down, with thousands of people trapped inside. I went home and sat in front of the television all day, weeping. All of those people jumping. All of those "missing" posters in the days to come. All of those parents and siblings and spouses, gone.
I've been reading "For the Time Being" by Annie Dillard. She quotes the Mahabharata:
"Of all of the world's wonders, which is the most wonderful?"
"That no man, though he sees others dying all around him, believes that he himself will die."
It's true, isn't it? In the past week I've watched the rapid decline of Miss Hannah, was informed of a sexual abuse situation in our ward, and --tonight-- heard that people have been robbed at gunpoint in our neighborhood recently. (This last came from a well-meaning neighbor who shared all pertinent details with use in front of our kids. They're sleeping in our room tonight.) And though waves of sadness and fear and anxiety wash over me from time to time, the breakfast is made, the dishes are washed, the laundry is put away. To stop would be to acquiesce, to deny the warmth that hope brings to weary limbs and minds, that "healing balm" that we all require and receive more than we probably know.