Thursday, September 11, 2008

Thursday's Wednesday Post - Heavy

Well, I woke up this morning and felt a heaviness come over me about mid-morning. It was raining. Clouds were moving past my windows, seemingly rushing around to command their place in the downpour. It was unusually quiet in my condo, largely because I had taken Bentley to a friend's house the night before due to my leaving for a trip to Cincinnati. And yes, I really do miss him when he's not around. You may think it strange to miss a little dog as much as I do, but considering the fact that we have been inseparable for most of the last 7 years, shared the ups and downs and in-betweens and starts and stops and laughter and tears...and never once did he complain or tell me to "just suck it up and be a man" or "this too shall pass" or one of the many good intentioned lines people offer up when they really don't have a clue what to say. And yes, I take a lot of ribbing from friends and associates about the Bentley thing.

And then I thought about my family spread across the country. I wondered if maybe I was getting one of those...vibes...you know, the X Files kinda stuff. Telepathy. Twilight Zone.

And then I looked at the top of my computer and noticed the date: September 11. And the images of that day spread across my consciousness like the billowing clouds of flames mushrooming around the towers that morning. I remembered Valerie calling down to my office in the house while I was talking with my son, John, and her short and indelible sentence, "Turn on the TV. We are under attack!" I remember being frozen in time for that entire day. I remember walking outside that evening and noticing the amazing quiet in the air with no planes flying overhead as they would do in the flight pattern near our home. I remember.

A little dog. A family at the other ends of the country.

There have been times when people ask me why I write. We all carry stories. They are written with permanent ink. Sometimes the weight seems unbearable. Writing releases some of the pain's prose; the ballast of memories.

Hug someone today. Simply because you can.

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