long year indeed.

16 04 2008

and this:

today’s sunny and robin-and-sparrow-y out in the yard and supposed to hit 67, sangeetha says; the forsythia might finally come out of hiding and join the march of “spring” in the rest of the country. last year we woke up to a blizzard, and i was bemoaning injustice even before somebody texted me to tell me to turn on the news.

it’s pretty much worn off, for me; i guess that’s how tragedies and losses work. for my friends who were there, hiding behind desks and relearning prayers they thought they’d forgotten, for the teachers and students and friends and classmates and families of the lost, it’s all still new, still reaching into places they didn’t know they stored associations, connections, threads of memory and faith in continuance. i know that now; i didn’t then. last year i thought i’d be shocked forever. but the pictures went off the news, and all of the people and things that were blacksburg to me remained, and it turns out it takes hits a little closer to home to actually shock you forever, that “home” isn’t necessarily as ideological as you think it is, that we’re a lot more selfish than we think we are, that they have to touch us and not just those we love to really scar. i can show you the nicks on my skin; when i go back it will look different. i’ll see the news-shots overlaying what i know. but it’s not the muscle-cut that leads to limping that it is for some of the folks i love.

i love you guys. i wish i’d been there to help you go back to those classrooms, to help you practicing walking limping, to see you get your strides back almost-right and learn to be strong in different ways in your new rhythms.

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