Something of Myself
Tuesday, September 05, 2006
The precipice of memory. The grandeur of loss.
I was reading this piece on BBC News on the memories of 9/11. This man nearly escaped death. This is what he has to say:
"As a kid, you worried about the monsters under your bed, and you'd hear a noise and it would spook you a little bit and your mom or dad would come in and say 'everything's okay, don't worry'. You check with a flashlight under the bed and there's no monsters hiding underneath there.
"Well, I got a bunch of little gremlins.
"I think anybody who is in New York, or who lost somebody or who paid witness that day, has a bunch of little gremlins under their bed, and every once in a while those gremlins leap out and they taunt you and they bite you and they want to play with you.
"So you play with them and then you put them back under your bed and maybe it's five minutes, maybe it's five days, maybe it's five months till they come back out and play, but you've got to confront your gremlins and then say 'You know what, folks, it's time to move on, I'll see you in six months'."
I found it touching. I found it relevant. The precipice of memory. The grandeur of loss. Like Katherine Mansfield said, 'Love Something One Must,' but at THIS cost?At the cost of knowing that no matter what you love and how much you do, it is going to end untimely. Or rather, the object of your love will be snatched away from you.
'Death closes all: but something ere the end,
Some work of noble note, may yet be done,
Not unbecoming men that strove with Gods.
The lights begin to twinkle from the rocks:
The long day wanes: the slow moon climbs: the deep
Moans round with many voices. Come, my friends,'Tis not too late to seek a newer world.'
- Alfred God Tennyson
I was reading this piece on BBC News on the memories of 9/11. This man nearly escaped death. This is what he has to say:
"As a kid, you worried about the monsters under your bed, and you'd hear a noise and it would spook you a little bit and your mom or dad would come in and say 'everything's okay, don't worry'. You check with a flashlight under the bed and there's no monsters hiding underneath there.
"Well, I got a bunch of little gremlins.
"I think anybody who is in New York, or who lost somebody or who paid witness that day, has a bunch of little gremlins under their bed, and every once in a while those gremlins leap out and they taunt you and they bite you and they want to play with you.
"So you play with them and then you put them back under your bed and maybe it's five minutes, maybe it's five days, maybe it's five months till they come back out and play, but you've got to confront your gremlins and then say 'You know what, folks, it's time to move on, I'll see you in six months'."
I found it touching. I found it relevant. The precipice of memory. The grandeur of loss. Like Katherine Mansfield said, 'Love Something One Must,' but at THIS cost?At the cost of knowing that no matter what you love and how much you do, it is going to end untimely. Or rather, the object of your love will be snatched away from you.
'Death closes all: but something ere the end,
Some work of noble note, may yet be done,
Not unbecoming men that strove with Gods.
The lights begin to twinkle from the rocks:
The long day wanes: the slow moon climbs: the deep
Moans round with many voices. Come, my friends,'Tis not too late to seek a newer world.'
- Alfred God Tennyson
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