Thursday, September 1st, 2005 • 1 Comment on Confession
I have avoided watching the news for the past several days. I can’t do it. I simply can’t. The destruction, the devastation, the helplessness is too much to bear witness to. I skim the articles in the paper out of habit, but I won’t look at the pictures and I won’t read the numbers. The numbers of homeless, the numbers of dead, the numbers—in dollars and days—it will take to make it all better. I avoid the pictures and the numbers, but the words aren’t much better. The words take shape in mental pictures that make me ache.
I am a fix it girl. Tell me what’s wrong, tell me what needs to be done and I’ll do it. It’s impossible to fix this kind of disaster. I can write a check or two (and I will), but to whom? Which group wil use it best? Which charity needs it most? There is so much need. So much. And I can’t fix any of it.
Today I e-mailed a friend who is living the words I can’t read and the pictures I can’t look at. She got out, she’s safe, she’ll be all right. I can send her a few things to cheer her up, give her a moment’s rest from worrying about her house, her belongings and where she will live until (or if) she can go back. There are so many others like her, so many who are much worse off who need more than a book or a DVD or a cheerful “hang in there” card. But I know her and I can do this small thing to let her know she’s not forgotten.
It’s not much, but it’s something.