(yashica mat-124, fuji pro 400, film)
yesterday has come and gone. i did not turn on the TV. a first for me in 10 years of remembering.
but we took the dog for a walk in the late afternoon, and i listened to the evening birds. i held my daughter's hand as she coasted in her chair beside me. we mused about cloud shapes and she hummed a mary poppins tune, wishing to fly her kite to highest height. i heard children laughing in the street and waved to a man watering his lawn, who smiled back at us. garth, with his usual wit, made me laugh too. we came home with fresh green peppers, a gift from our neighbor from her garden. tonight we chopped them and ate them with dinner, thankful for this green earth. in all these things, we remembered and honored that day by living fully within this one, and the one before it and the one to come.
this is the best we can do for those who lost their lives in that tragedy.
i pray it isn't too much to hope for- that we can really live in a world that can harbor lasting peace. and that from the horror of that day, we can create it- within us- and then watch it ripple into the world around us.