there is something about life that drives me crazy sometimes: that it is not permanent. that in less than a blink, it is taken away. whoosh. gone. sitting here, reading the tweets, the news updates, watching the news. another plane crash. 49 more lives, taken. whoosh. gone. horrific images. bystander interviews. phone numbers for friends and family to call for more info. i watch and listen and wonder: how do they dial? how do they pick up the phone, punch in those numbers, and ask ‘is the person i love alive?’ it’s a question i don’t think i’d want to know the answer, because the mere act of asking it means chances are slim.
as a parent, i am energized by the life my children bring, and paralyzed with fear at the thought of something ever taking that away. i am so incredibly in love with life and this world and think it’s damn amazing we are all here to love, to laugh, to give, to learn. but it pisses me off to no end that these things happen. i cannot watch the news. i cannot read the news. i cannot talk about anything like this with anyone. at all. anymore. i shake. i ache. i cry and cry and feel like a shit because why am i crying? i don’t know those people. i don’t live near there. i don’t have any connections. but that’s the thing, isn’t it? we could have had connections. it could have been us. it might be one day. me, trying to pick up the phone and punch in those numbers to find out about you; you, picking up the phone to find out about me. we are all here. we are all connected. and it kills me to no fucking end that these horrible things keep happening. and what can we do? i need, need, need to DO, to help, to comfort or something i don’t know, but i can’t do anything to save those people. the ridiculous part inside of me wishes i could have. everytime.
in the secret life of bees, there is a character who held my heart: may. she was a little off. she held the world’s sorrows in her heart. she had a wailing wall where she wrote on little pieces of paper when something happened that hurt her heart so much she couldn’t bear it, so she wrote and stuffed the paper into this wall as an attempt to let it go, set the burden of the pain she felt free. i get it, may. i cannot hear about things like tonight’s crash and go on with my night, life as usual. i can’t do it. i can only sit and rock and cry. i feel helpless but desperately, fiercely want to help. but how? i sit and allow my thoughts to honor those lives and hope. hope that the surviving families allow themselves to feel the loss and grieve as they need to. hope that they will eventually in time see the light of love and laugh again. hope that this never happens again. to anyone. a girl can hope.
my thoughts, my heart, my whole life right now, goes out to the families and friends of those beautiful people lost tonight on Continental flight 3407. i know it’s a long shot, but if any of you are reading this, please know i am hugging you fiercely tonight. i am with you. i am right there. and if you need me later, i’ll be here. just tell me how i can help.