October 5, 2001

a ripple

It’s still there. We can try to ignore it, forget it, oh how hard we can try, but it continues gnaws away at our minds.

Last night I dreamed of jets crashing into buildings… again. I always watch from a different angle than the cameras showed; that’s the only way I know it is a dream and not CNN. This time I was riding on the wing… I could see the passengers through the windows. Some had their faces buried in hands, weeping. The others looked strangely calm, stoic. Perhaps when your fate is set, when there’s nothing you can do, you just sort of black out. Your mind stretches off elsewhere and you sit. Composed.

Then the impact. The world rippled like the surface of a pond.

This changes everything.

We must never forget, but at the same time we must manage as though things are somewhat normal. The cheerful Celtic music may strike a solemn chord within you, a wrenching sadness flowing beneath the surface of great gaity, but as is the nature of reality. You steal a glance at her eyes, wondering if she is thinking the same thing.

Yes she is. Maybe not at the moment, but it is there.

It is in all of us.