February 25, 2011
I have regressed 10 years to become a news junkie again. Waiting to hear stories of rescue, waiting for the news of what was Christchurch.
We of course did not feel any shaking on Waiheke, but my small country of four million is shaken. Here, the degrees of separation are not six, but two. We know we will all be effected by the stories, the devastation. It is another reminder that in a moment our lives can change un-expectantly, any time, any where.
There is talk on the news of rebuilding and the ground is not finished shaking. Some people are always ahead of themselves and not in the moment. They forget to pause and think about the present. Or in this case, the present is too unbearable. The thought of rebuilding in this moment is so odd to me and rebuilding on a fault for sentimental reasons is not such a gift to future generations, is it? There were also reported speculation on whether facilities will be able to host Rugby in a few months. Really? Rugby? We might have some survivors still trapped and someone somewhere is worried about Rugby.
Most of the time the values spouted from these reports seldom reflect my own. The buildings, the economy…uttering these word while people are searching for water is unfathomable. I am reminded why the TV found its way into the closet years ago.
But still I watch, waiting for good news. News of rescues and love stories.
I was in the ’89 bay area earthquake. I witnessed a rolling playground toppling toddlers I for which I was caring. Luckily all of the parents did pick up their children, but I sat with them for a few hours wondering.
The earthquake solidified my relationship with my first husband. He slept on my couch while we endured the aftershocks together in my cheap apartment built on stilts. Some say my future children rumbled the earth so they could be created.
Time spent in Sri Lanka after the 2006 tsunami gave me an inside look at life after a huge shake up. Clothes still dripping from tall trees, opportunists at every corner, grief, relief, hope.
Catastrophes can sometimes have unexpected out comes. I keep staring at the tv, hoping to find them, knowing that the unfolding of the biggest stories will not appear in the news. I think it’s time to donate blood and put the tv back in the closet…