>> donate to Red Cross
I feel older.
I feel older in that burdened way.
Heavier, like we've lost our innocence.
I don't mean innocence like the opposite of guilty.
I think I mean older in the way that I feel less frivolous.
Heavier not just with grieving. But in a way that won't lift. Like, a tree's trunk can only grow bigger around, (layered cyclically) never smaller. Layers don't peel off.
Older in the way you notice that you're older, as it happens to you one day in your life. Maybe say in the way that you've moved out of your parents' house. You're living on your own now and earning your own money, paying for your own life, and before you run out the door towards some, like, group fun thing, you stop to turn off the light switches.
And you notice this. One day. You are older. As you hear maybe your dad's voice, reminding you that electricity costs money, you still feel like his daughter, but you now understand. Really for the first time. And see, now you're older. And you won't go back to that innocence.
You're burdened by experience.
That is a flimsy comparison. i know.
But also, i feel we're all tenderized now. More sensitive. More tender. We tough skinned street smart new yorkers need gentle exchanges.
If you're still looking:
David Galagher posted some nice photos last week.
oh, and thanks,
phome!
This was the message on my tea bag just now:
"You must be the change you wish to see in the world."
--Mahatma Gandhi
My Lost City: New York Blogs and Journal Accounts of the WTC disaster
have you seen this photo
of lower Manhattan by satellite? or this photo of
this hero?
That's my hand: A view of the former towers, from the patio of our favorite Diner, in South Williamsburg.
