We were sitting in our hotel on Sunday morning when I glanced at my phone; it was 9:02.
People were having breakfast, checking out, loading their cars. The sun was shining. It was a cool, spring morning. Life goes on.
Just blocks away, people were marking the anniversary of the Oklahoma City bombing. We had visited the memorial the day before and the experience overwhelmed the senses--the gates/walls that stand on either side, one with 9:01 etched into it, the other with 9:03-- in between, the black water, the empty chairs, one for each person. There were flowers, teddy bears, Dr. Seuss books. It was quiet, very quiet, even with so many people.
Twenty years. 2-0 years. Twenty whole years. Facebook. Smartphones. 9-11. Birthdays. Christmases. Graduations. Weddings. Sunrises. Sunsets.
I was in Oklahoma City for an awards ceremony, a celebration. Celebration. Anticipation. Cowboy hats and turquoise. Happy folks. Rewards.
The space ...between anniversaries...is how I live my life now.
My friend has lost both her children. They were grown. They had lives, real lives, friends, jobs, hobbies.
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We toasted one another with wine, made new friends, grabbed old ones. Pictures. Pictures. Pictures. Save the moment, savor the moment.
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The morning after....9:02. People are happy, making coffee, having breakfast.
The space between anniversaries.