Red Dress City
Though I live on its outskirts, it is my city. I am in the wintergreen Subaru when I hear the news. My children are laughing in the back seat and I shush them.
It is my city that is burning, ashes falling like snow. It is my husband who is slated to be at One World Trade Center, but decides to stay home. It is my husband who loses colleagues on that day, just like so many others... everybody is touched by this. And it is my husband who tells me in the weeks to come... how acrid is the lingering air.
I do not go. I cannot go. I cannot look. Months later, when the debris is cleared, I walk that street, look into that gaping space, remember those Windows on the World.
But I've never been able to fully process these things. Who can process tragedy, really? Here are my small tributes...
Eyewitness News, photo essay at IAM's Curator.
Tragedy in the Balance, at HighCallingBlogs.
Qui Es in Caelis, at Love Notes to Yahweh
'Sara Eternal' and 'Titanic' photos by L.L. Barkat
Labels: Curator, high calling blogs, InCourage, random acts of poetry, September 11, Titanic, tragedy
posted by L.L. Barkat at 6:00 AM
18 Comments:
Sorry I forgot this yesterday... http://mymemoirofyou.blogspot.com/2009/09/umbrella.html
As for tragedy... It has touched my life in a real way and I still process it everyday. It is a process of continual sacrifice and renewal.
I made a collage for my mom just a few weeks ago. It read: "When all is broken, heaven awaits us."
For me this is the only hope when all continues to break and bleed.
Beautiful post. Thank you.
http://darkchocolateisbest.blogspot.com/2009/09/september-11-2001.html
i am not sure about processing tragedy either. maybe it is true that we are given things that are stronger, to balance it out.
like more grace than sin.
grace in the form of things like beauty, humor and support through the people that are placed in our life.
My gut aches in memory.
Eight years, and there is still a gaping hole in me that was made on that day. I hope it never heals.
What a haunting quote from that passenger.
I grew up in a suburb just outside of the city. It is difficult to fathom such a thing. I don't think we can truly process it, we cannot wrap our minds around such a horrific event and such individual tragedy.
I didn't see the poem. I am most humbled to be among such company. Thank you so much. I am just beginning to get acquainted with all the amazing things you do.
Thank you - you've taken and made something special of my words.
I've joined HighCalling!
A lovely and fitting post...Sharon
And I cry.
Such sadness and tragedy that touched so many lives. Even though I cannot claim it as my city, in a way, that day it was not only for me but all of us. Thank you for sharing such a deeply personal experience.
I agree that it just seems to much to really process what happened that day. Thank you for sharing your 9-11 and leaving the post on the (in)courage site!
Haunting and still very surreal..
Yes. We can't well comprehend the scope or actual substance of this; it is too much for us. But we must attempt to enter into the pain as much as possible. And into the world's pain, which is a big part of our calling in Jesus.
Thanks, L.L. for this.
How quickly we forget. Thank you for remembering. It helps me not feel so hopeless about the world.
a post haunting and simple
Having been a NYer, having been to the top of those amazing buildings before, having my adult child and family in a suburb that lost too many Dads (no Moms lost in their suburb that day), knowing NYers up close and personal, I don't suppose I will ever process the tragedy - it will always remain too vivid. Like a war story, or a tragic accident, something we know happened but have not the courage to face it too much again and again. Thank you for your words on the day of this post and for my finding them here today.
Post a Comment
<< Home