Happiness, Worry, and Moving On ...
Sep. 11th, 2006 02:38 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
texchanKind of a mixed bag in the Bish Closet today. Maybe it's the day and the memory of what happened five years ago, but I find my emotions in turmoil today. Maybe I'm just hormonal ... who the hell knows?
Anyhow ... on with the blah, blah, blah.
Happiness
I had a happy, happy, joy, joy, "fangirl sqwee" sort of moment over the weekend. A couple, actually, and both related to one of my favorite collecting obsessions: Saiyuki.
A week or so ago, there was an auction for some lovely Requiem genga on Yahoo Japan. I watched them, intending to wait until toward the end of the auction to bid. But, thanks to Ernesto, I didn't get to. (He was "kind" enough to turn our electricity off for us. Luckily, only for a couple of days, but it was enough to make me miss the end of the auction.) I was even more irritated to find out it had ended with no bidders, meaning I could have gotten it for the opening bid. Talk about an "ARGH!" moment. I watched for a couple of days, hoping it would get relisted ... but, it looked like I was out of luck, until a friend from a cel forum offered to contact the seller for me -- to ask about the sketches being relisted. The seller agreed to, so I had my second chance at them. A YAY! moment, although I was a bit worried there might be a bid war, since the auction had shown up in a forum thread. Luck and the graphite gods were with me, though, and I got them for the opening bid! Fangirl sqwee #1. Wheeee!
And, then ... I receive the most lovely of lovely emails! My wonderful friend Heather has been working on some fancels for me. She does such gorgeous, gorgeous work, and, from time to time, I am lucky enough to benefit from her talents. This was just such a time, as she was sending along a scan of the Demon Goku cel she had just completed. And, it is gorgeous!! Fangirl sqwee #2.
*tacklegloms Heather*
So, that covers "happiness". I do have one other fantastic fanart acquisition to sqwee over, but it'll have to wait till a later entry, as I haven't sent the payment for it yet. I haven't been able to get to the PO, but a trip there is in order today.
Worry
(behind an LJ-cut, so you can skip my emo whining, if you want to. ^.~)
We all know what day today is. We all remember where we were and what we were doing on this day, five years ago. I was fortunate enough not to be near any of the tragedy, so, I suppose, it only touched my life in a tangential way. I remember being at work when someone ran into our bay, crying and screaming out the news of what had happened. We all rushed out to the break areas, to cluster around the televisions and watch, hoping to make sense out of something that could never make sense. I remember how unreal it seemed, how I kept thinking it was an accident, how I kept thinking it couldn't be real. But, it wasn't an accident. It was real ... and, no matter how much I wish it hadn't, our world changed that day. My world changed that day. I changed that day.
Pretty selfish of me to feel that way, I guess, since I didn't live in NY or DC. I was removed from the tragedy, and couldn't possibly know how it felt to live through that. But, I did know and feel how it was to live through days and weeks wondering when the other shoe was going to drop, wondering what else was going to happen and when. Maybe that was selfish, too. Maybe it was normal. Maybe everyone felt that way, even if they weren't in NY or DC when the attacks happened. But, whatever the case, it was how I felt. It was like walking through a fog, and I can't even imagine how it had to have been for anyone living in the areas directly affected.
So,now, it's five years later. In some ways, the world has gotten better, I suppose. In many ways, it is probably either worse or hasn't changed at all. I suppose that's how things go when you are human. The thing is, I thought I had gotten better. I thought that, in five years, I had managed to put those feelings -- that fear -- behind me. Until my husband announced on Saturday that he was making a business trip today. I looked at him and asked if he realized what day it was, and he told me that, yes, he did. And, I was afraid. Isn't it stupid? I mean, how many times a month does he get on a plane and travel somewhere? How many times a year does he do it? And, I manage to kiss him goodbye and wish him good luck and not think about it. Except for this one day. This one stupid day out of the year, when I can't sleep at all the night before for the fear of my beloved getting on an airplane and, possibly, not coming home again. Not because it's a particularly dangerous mode of travel (maybe it is or maybe it isn't ... ), but because of what day it is. Because of what happened five years ago. Because of something that, although it didn't touch me directly, changed my life and the way I looked at the world. And, that's when I realized -- I haven't moved on. Not at all. I'm still just as afraid and full of grief as I was that day, five years ago.
Moving On
Is it possible? Does it just take time -- lots and lots of time? Will I ever be able to face this day without grief and sadness, without fear? Do I even want to? I mean, the hatred that would drive people to do this unspeakable thing ... the loss of innocent lives, something I can't even begin to comprehend ... these are things we shouldn't forget. Because these are the things that, maybe, can drive us to do better, to dream of and work for a world where hatred takes a back seat to our finer emotions.
Today, I look at my little daughter. She is going to be three next week. She wasn't even born when the attacks happened. Maybe this is how we move on. We love our children. We do our best, no matter what we have seen, to hold on to our hope and our dreams, and to try and build a world where they can live in peace. It's a great dream. Maybe it's not possible to achieve it, but that's the thing about dreams -- you do your best, one step at a time, to make them come true. And, that's all you can do.
When I watch my beautiful daughter, so innocent and so pure, turn her face to the future -- toward a world gone cold and uncertain and frighteningly gray, I pray, with all my heart, that my steps are enough ... that my love is enough. It has to be, though. It's all I can give. But, isn't that the thing about love? That, perhaps, even just a little bit is enough, when it can multiply and come back to you.
So, for today, I pray for that. And, I try to move on, as best as I can.
Anyhow ... on with the blah, blah, blah.
Happiness
I had a happy, happy, joy, joy, "fangirl sqwee" sort of moment over the weekend. A couple, actually, and both related to one of my favorite collecting obsessions: Saiyuki.
A week or so ago, there was an auction for some lovely Requiem genga on Yahoo Japan. I watched them, intending to wait until toward the end of the auction to bid. But, thanks to Ernesto, I didn't get to. (He was "kind" enough to turn our electricity off for us. Luckily, only for a couple of days, but it was enough to make me miss the end of the auction.) I was even more irritated to find out it had ended with no bidders, meaning I could have gotten it for the opening bid. Talk about an "ARGH!" moment. I watched for a couple of days, hoping it would get relisted ... but, it looked like I was out of luck, until a friend from a cel forum offered to contact the seller for me -- to ask about the sketches being relisted. The seller agreed to, so I had my second chance at them. A YAY! moment, although I was a bit worried there might be a bid war, since the auction had shown up in a forum thread. Luck and the graphite gods were with me, though, and I got them for the opening bid! Fangirl sqwee #1. Wheeee!
And, then ... I receive the most lovely of lovely emails! My wonderful friend Heather has been working on some fancels for me. She does such gorgeous, gorgeous work, and, from time to time, I am lucky enough to benefit from her talents. This was just such a time, as she was sending along a scan of the Demon Goku cel she had just completed. And, it is gorgeous!! Fangirl sqwee #2.
*tacklegloms Heather*
So, that covers "happiness". I do have one other fantastic fanart acquisition to sqwee over, but it'll have to wait till a later entry, as I haven't sent the payment for it yet. I haven't been able to get to the PO, but a trip there is in order today.
Worry
(behind an LJ-cut, so you can skip my emo whining, if you want to. ^.~)
We all know what day today is. We all remember where we were and what we were doing on this day, five years ago. I was fortunate enough not to be near any of the tragedy, so, I suppose, it only touched my life in a tangential way. I remember being at work when someone ran into our bay, crying and screaming out the news of what had happened. We all rushed out to the break areas, to cluster around the televisions and watch, hoping to make sense out of something that could never make sense. I remember how unreal it seemed, how I kept thinking it was an accident, how I kept thinking it couldn't be real. But, it wasn't an accident. It was real ... and, no matter how much I wish it hadn't, our world changed that day. My world changed that day. I changed that day.
Pretty selfish of me to feel that way, I guess, since I didn't live in NY or DC. I was removed from the tragedy, and couldn't possibly know how it felt to live through that. But, I did know and feel how it was to live through days and weeks wondering when the other shoe was going to drop, wondering what else was going to happen and when. Maybe that was selfish, too. Maybe it was normal. Maybe everyone felt that way, even if they weren't in NY or DC when the attacks happened. But, whatever the case, it was how I felt. It was like walking through a fog, and I can't even imagine how it had to have been for anyone living in the areas directly affected.
So,now, it's five years later. In some ways, the world has gotten better, I suppose. In many ways, it is probably either worse or hasn't changed at all. I suppose that's how things go when you are human. The thing is, I thought I had gotten better. I thought that, in five years, I had managed to put those feelings -- that fear -- behind me. Until my husband announced on Saturday that he was making a business trip today. I looked at him and asked if he realized what day it was, and he told me that, yes, he did. And, I was afraid. Isn't it stupid? I mean, how many times a month does he get on a plane and travel somewhere? How many times a year does he do it? And, I manage to kiss him goodbye and wish him good luck and not think about it. Except for this one day. This one stupid day out of the year, when I can't sleep at all the night before for the fear of my beloved getting on an airplane and, possibly, not coming home again. Not because it's a particularly dangerous mode of travel (maybe it is or maybe it isn't ... ), but because of what day it is. Because of what happened five years ago. Because of something that, although it didn't touch me directly, changed my life and the way I looked at the world. And, that's when I realized -- I haven't moved on. Not at all. I'm still just as afraid and full of grief as I was that day, five years ago.
Moving On
Is it possible? Does it just take time -- lots and lots of time? Will I ever be able to face this day without grief and sadness, without fear? Do I even want to? I mean, the hatred that would drive people to do this unspeakable thing ... the loss of innocent lives, something I can't even begin to comprehend ... these are things we shouldn't forget. Because these are the things that, maybe, can drive us to do better, to dream of and work for a world where hatred takes a back seat to our finer emotions.
Today, I look at my little daughter. She is going to be three next week. She wasn't even born when the attacks happened. Maybe this is how we move on. We love our children. We do our best, no matter what we have seen, to hold on to our hope and our dreams, and to try and build a world where they can live in peace. It's a great dream. Maybe it's not possible to achieve it, but that's the thing about dreams -- you do your best, one step at a time, to make them come true. And, that's all you can do.
When I watch my beautiful daughter, so innocent and so pure, turn her face to the future -- toward a world gone cold and uncertain and frighteningly gray, I pray, with all my heart, that my steps are enough ... that my love is enough. It has to be, though. It's all I can give. But, isn't that the thing about love? That, perhaps, even just a little bit is enough, when it can multiply and come back to you.
So, for today, I pray for that. And, I try to move on, as best as I can.