The past two weeks have flown by faster than this airplane since vacation. Working in the backyard, completing a book proposal, trying lose the same ten pounds and to teach myself power point – all activities in the small confines of home. Very little television, some radio. I’ve been hesitant to let the outside world in. The tragedy in London drew me out of seclusion to watch the news, but only for a short while. Watching won’t help heal the wounds of the city, its people or the hate that’s infected the world.
I am on an airplane headed to Lexington, staring at the cursor wondering if that is a callous remark – I don’t mean it to be. Quite simply, what else can one do except live a peaceful, non-intrusive life? Or try to. Sometimes I get so wound up by listening to political arguments on the radio and television I am paralyzed. Surely that doesn’t help anyone, least of all me.
I remember 9/11 like it was last week. I was standing in the kitchen watching the Today show in the living room. Kelly called and we talked as we watched the second plane hit. A day out of surgery, the dr. had confined me to the house – I confined myself to a chair in the living room and watched urgently every new, painful revelation, crying, channel selector in hand. I don’t know how many times I watched that plane fly into that building and then the two towers melt. I had 5 or 6 surgeries that year, and that one was the longest recovery. I think that is a metaphor for something, but have never figured out what.
I don’t think that experience made me immune to tragedy, it just made me painfully aware of my human limitations. Kind of like the orange and purple stripes of a magnificent sunset.