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Sunday, February 02, 2003So, yesterday...was a hard and tragic day, and I have no idea what to say...sometimes you don't really feel like you have the right to greif, because you never touched their lives, they would not have been able to pick you out from a crowd, and to be very openly upset in some ways is almost disrespectful to the families and friends, who are the ones who truly have the right to feel the devestation of this...I pray for the families, and yesterday I was glued to the TV, hoping against hope that somehow they had survived. Someone mentioned that they all wore parachutes, and that when the cabin was in freefall, they could jump out. So I prayed, and hoped. And that's all I have to say, I guess. ************** My friend Arlette told me that "Where have all the Flowers Gone" is really an old French song, "Que Sont Devenues Les Fluers" Isn't that pretty? *************** Notebooks will stab you in the heart. I found an old stack of notebooks, and scribbled something on one without looking at what else was wirrten on the page. When I went back to it, I saw much older notes, of a painful conversation I had over the phone while I took notes, listening to his advice and putting my life into neat columns and rows, trying to see some future, some path. I thought I'd gotten rid of all the evidence long since, but you never do. Next time I will burn all the notebooks. Start off with the true cleaness that exists after the fire, not the false cleaness of ripped out pages. They decieve you, notebooks do....no matter how you search and tear away, there are always hidden things, places where people who no longer have the right have written themselves into your life, grocery lists, bits of poetry. Things that wait and jump out at you when your the least ready to deal with them. Permalink Cindy scribed this at 8:34 PM 0 comments |