Wednesday, January 20, 2010

The World Spins Madly On

Last Wednesday a lot of people died on a little island. They say maybe 200,000. A number too big to contemplate.

Last Thursday an old woman died in her bed while her wedding soup simmered quietly in her kitchen.

I can't grasp the magnitude of many. But I can grasp the magnitude of one. She was there. And then she wasn't.

I can't really say that I will miss her. She was not the pleasant sort. And her family wasted no time in squabbling over her belongings, discussing it while her body lay in state a few feet away. It was sordid and ugly and... human. We cope by moving on. We must, because there is really no choice.

But as I watched the last week play out, it focused my thoughts again around the concept of now. Living now. And living the way we want to live. I wonder if she would have done anything differently if she would have known that Thursday was the end. Maybe. But maybe not. I wonder too if the 200,000 would have changed anything if they knew. One more hug. One more smile. One more... something.

As I write this, my feet are propped on a table that found its way to my living room from hers. A reminder perhaps, that waiting for one more whatever can't wait.

I thought of you and where you'd gone and the world spins madly on.


  1. i'm sorry and this song has great personal meaning to me. i play it daily.

  2. You know, I had something REALLY profound to say. Then I got distracted by google. Now I'm scared to wonder how "sausage skin" relates to people dying. Ew.

    Blame google for my lame comment. Sorry.

  3. This is an excellent blog, and it has already fixed itself in my brain so I will be thinking about those very valid and poignant comments.

  4. @char... thank you... and it is a bittersweet song.

    @lindsay... I'm a little curious at the sausage skin thing too... and more than a little disturbed.

    @lady... it does seem to come around and bite you.

    @pina- those are the best (or worst) kind of blogs... the brain stickers. thanks

    @laurnie... thanks.

  5. It's the wedding soup on the stove that got me. The universe in the smallest details.

    Thanks for this.

  6. It's odd how we can hear about thousands and be somewhat numb to the idea and yet just one person, one that we knew and could see, affects us entirely.

    "waiting for one more whatever can't wait"