It feels like it’s been a good weekend. Had dinner with friends, finished up a creative project I’d been meaning to do for some time, took the train downtown to walk with friends to help raise money to find a cure for juvenile diabetes, cleaned the house a little, read the New York Times magazine, didn’t do some work for school that I probably should have done, took my girls out for ice cream, helped with a little homework, now heading this evening to a friend’s birthday party armed with some decent wine. Nothing spectacular, but all good things.
Yet there is a feeling of emptiness and loss. It’s September 11, the ten year anniversary. While I did not know anyone directly who was killed in the attacks, it has effected us all deeply and I mourn. On Friday I learned that a friend has been diagnosed with breast cancer. Today I heard a parent at my former school committed suicide. The papers have reported in detail the usual collection of tragedy from around the world, and I have been thinking a lot about a local story about a young college student, no one I knew, whose leg were severed after she failed to jump onto a moving train.
It’s tough to make sense of it all. I feel so fortunate and blessed in my life and yet around us all tough things continue to baffle us. Why these events? Why my friend? Why now? Why not me? There’s not much I can do. So much is out of my control. So I continue to show love, to be present for my loved ones wherever and whenever possible, to take a little breathing time for myself, and to feel immense gratitude always for the amazing relationships in my life. For my partner, for my daughters, for my family, for my friends, for my colleagues, for living where I live.
We should all be so lucky.
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