Thursday, August 02, 2007

My body is fine and E and the girls are safe. I am having a hard time figuring out what to write. This bridge is less than a mile from my house. I crossed it seven times yesterday. I am taking a manuscript class at the U with Carolyn Forche’ this week so I even traveled it more than usual.

I hate the bridge. It is almost like we have had this long standing disagreement for years and now the bridge won. I always saw myself falling when I crossed it and I couldn’t shut it out of my head. But when you have to get somewhere every day and that’s the main route, and you’re kind of an odd person anyway, you shut it out.

Now the sound is screaming in my head.

I didn’t go to class with Carolyn today and a huge part of me just wants to hide in the bed and pretend I don’t know anything, feel anything, or have the possibility to loose anyone. I want to stop people on the street, wrap my arms around them and thank them for not dying in front of me.

I know I am going to know someone else. You can’t do the work I do in this city and not know someone who has died. Who the bridge didnt let go. Yesterday when they were showing the kids on the bus, which fell ninety feet, I recognized faces. I don’t want to know. I don’t want to be the person I am, who see the possibility of everything and I don’t want the noise.

And I want to be happy. I am happy, the girls and Emily are safe. My family, close friends, the first string of those I love but someone is not and I hear that. I hear the seven other times I crossed the bridge yesterday and how it just let me pretend.

12 comments:

Pamela Johnson Parker said...

I am very glad that you and yours are safe. I thought of you all yesterday when I saw the coverage on TV.

LKD said...

Can a person be scared shitless yet relieved simultaneously?

That's how I feel right now.

Relieved that you're there, that you're alive. Scared shitless that the bridge is that close, that you crossed it everyday.

My first thought when I turned on CNN and saw that awful scene was of you. Then I saw the school bus and thought of your girls, and E, and the children you teach.

Scared shitless and relieved.

You are still here, alive in this world. I am more thankful for that miracle than I can say right now.

Peter said...

Wow. What I've seen on the news is pretty intense. Glad you are safe.

Montgomery Maxton said...

i'm glad you are safe, too.

tom said...

glad you and yours are safe

my daughter crosses that bridge several times a week on her way too or from work

Anonymous said...

So thankful to hear you are home safe - what a close and terrible thing.

Suzanne said...

This has been all over the news in Spain. Honey, I´m so relieved to hear that you and yours are safe. Thinking of you--

love & kisses

Anonymous said...

It is eerie being *this close* to calamity. Glad to hear body and spirit are still united. I understand the fear of finding out who was touched by this. I have fifty first cousins, almost all in the Twin Cities, and many dear friends there as well. I had to start calling people right away, just to hear their voices.

- Kelly in Nebraska

Lyle Daggett said...

Glad also that you're okay. And yeah, it's scary and more, and unbelievable sorrow.

Molly said...

We missed you in workshop. :)

Just wanted to say hello, so you don't not know I'm lurking about!

early hours of sky said...

Hello Molly and all my wonderful friends,

Thanks to everyone for their kindness. It has been an interesting week and I promise to blog more soon.

Gary B said...

T, so glad to hear you are ok.

Not to be political, but lets get out of Iraq and pay attention to our own infrastructure...

Smiles.

Gary