Forever emblazoned in our minds and hearts are the 32 joys lost that day - the sons and daughters, mothers and fathers and Hokie brothers and sisters I wish I had known and that will always be a part of me.
It may sound trite, but the thought of them is often in my mind and never out of my heart. It was two years ago yesterday that their spirits, mostly known only to family and friends, were introduced to the world.
The complexities and subtleties of the emotions of families, friends and strangers, will never be fully exposed. For each it is personal, but for all it is universal.
Until that day, I knew not a one, yet now I am allowed to know them by name, face and sometimes by their dreams and passions. And yet, I feel that is presumptuous - presumptuous to the parents who say "You did not know my child," or to the wife who might think "You can't know what my husband felt." And they are right...I, and the millions of others who express their sadness, have no right to claim any intimacy with their loved ones. But we, especially those of us who live in Blacksburg and are fellow Hokies, have been given so much and let in far enough to their worlds that we do feel a sense of personal loss.
This is part of the complexity - not knowing the individual, but feeling their loss. When one life is lost, it should be personal to the world. Yet it is perhaps the most private of experiences. And, until yesterday, I thought I was allowed to feel it more personally because I live in Blacksburg and April 16th happened in my backyard. But the memorial events and the exhibits of art and letters spread across multiple Blacksburg and Virginia Tech venues shook me a bit reminding me that loss is far-reaching, sometimes much more than we realize.
The family and friends of those lost have every right to want to hold their feelings close, but that day and the 2 years that have followed, introduced 32 individual spirits to the world. We have embraced them, felt love, sadness, beauty, awe and honor to have shared in this very private loss. Is is with the greatest respect I thank all who have allowed me this privilege.
Like love, grief has no limits. It is felt and expressed not asking for anything in return.
We acknowledge it but do not comprehend it, we accept it but do not want to, and we experience it personally and communally.
I write this, not just to give life to my feelings, but to remind all of the fragility of life and strength with which we must live it. We realize how personal it is and yet should not forget that one life, each life, is a pebble tossed in a pond that ripples endlessly.
Be kind, show compassion, and express love as often as you can. I know there are 32 souls and a world who would be happier if you did.
Thank You for allowing me to take this space to share a moment in my life.
And to those who think life is but a set of moments strung together, don't be so short-sighted not to realize how far one life can reach. Thirty-two lives have touched the corners of this earth, been seen by the heavens and found a home in my heart.
In closing, I quote a hauntingly beautiful song played at the Convocation in Blacksburg April 17th 2007.
Walk humbly, son
Walk humbly, now
And cherish every step
For a life well spent
On this earth we're lent
Will be marked by the void you have left.
From "Walk Humbly Son"
[Personal thanks to McLeanites "Eddie from Ohio" for use of their song "Walk Humbly Son" (credits to Michael Clem, J. Fish Music/ASCAP). Look for an upcoming post on "Eddie From Ohio" and visit their website at http://www.efohio.com/]
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