Someone said there were blasts at the Boston Marathon. Explosions. My computer at work deals with highly sensitive information, so I don’t go to news sites. Others were, or using their phones. I kept working. I heard “…severed limbs…” “…blood…” “…two explosions at the finish line…” and kept working. And I know some were thinking that I didn’t care. But my mind was going back to other times…
September 11 – when the planes hit the towers, and the other locations. And the sun was shining in our part of the world. We brought our children home to make sure they were safe. Priority one. We had a disaster response plan in place and activated it as soon as the news broke – a response plan far in advance of any agency recommending having one – because I cared about my children and the children of my friends. My neighbors cared enough to plan with me. We were safe. Our children were safe. But for six months I could not stop watching the 24 hours news stations, sure that if I stopped watching, something else would happen…because when I walked away one time, the second plane hit the second tower. I knew this wasn’t logical, and I knew this didn’t make sense, but my brain would not process it.
One thing that went through my head today – at least the hospitals have people to care for. On September 11th, the people all died. The response teams were ready but no one came in.
That my college roommate was running late for a meeting at the Pentagon on September 11th. She stayed for several weeks to assist with relief efforts, went home, and then returned. She isn’t military.
Mid-1990’s – My stay in a third world country to adopt my daughter. I was handed a baby that was starving to death. And traveled a country, beautiful and cruel, saw kindness, death, hope, despair… and brought home a daughter but left a broken, battered soul from a place where half the children were dead by 5 and corpses were stacked like firewood for burning by people with no lot in life but what they are born into. And mothers would see me with my baby and beg me to take theirs, to give her a chance to live. And that is not even the tip of the iceberg. Or the Everest.
I wasn’t supposed to be in that country. But that is where my road lead me…
So, when I heard the news today, I thought about a couple of other events. And I clung for dear life, to keep from plunging back to a country half-way around the world, to the bodies stacked up, to the smell of them burning, to the flashbacks, to the things I have no control over.
Yes, I felt the news today.
Categories: INTJ and INTP