Deathday

So how did my day start? I woke up early, bolted out of bed. My mind filled with things to do. I had lunches and breakfasts to fix, lists to make and toys to pick up.  Groggy from the massive dose of benadryl I took last night. I supplemented accordingly with tea.

I popped on the TV to watch the weather channel, since I start every day that way. News rattled on in the background, as I put together meals and tapped my fingers rhythmically.

Every morning, I have a special moment with the Local on the Eights.  In between Doppler radar segments,  news burbles in the background, ignored. Today, I noticed the words "Osama bin laden" and "killed." I truly did not think much about this as I fixed turkey sandwiches and cooked chicken broccoli pasta. A tiny "hmmm" registered but not much more.

Breakfast fixed and lunches packed, I plopped on the couch. Alabama is in crisis. Tornados devastate communities and kill over 300 people. I see the splintered homes that almost look like scenes from a disaster movie. I think, what is not right?—why this does not look real? I realize that hollywood movies have dramatic lighting, incomparable to the stark sun on raw shattered wood. Truth is ugly.

The Eights come and go. "Osama Bin Laden is dead, " they announced.  I cannot believe it. I remember 9/11. We were at AAA picking up our tickets for a trip to France. We watched with the staff as the second plane crashed into the towers. I was so shocked. I could not process the enormity of what had happened. I just asked about our tickets. I could not think of what else to do. In retrospect, it must have seemed incredibly selfish, but the truth was that it took me hours to process what had happened. When it hit me, my insides felt hollow and my skin tingled. I wept. I paced. I called my best friend and clung to her for the rest of the day.

Hearing of Osama's death was unexpected. As the details unfolded, I watched people celebrating in the streets. Maybe it's just me, but when I think about the loss of the twin towers and all those people, I don't want to celebrate. I want to sit and think and mourn.