Living is Remembering.
Before my feet hit the cold floor this morning, before the sun began to invade the early morning darkness, before I uttered a single word, I knew. It was 11 years ago today.
It was a snow globe morning in New Brunswick today. Blue-grey sky and boisterous white clouds highlighted the medium-sized snowflakes encircling us, swirling slowly to the ground. The river fog was hovering over the slow-moving water like a protective winter blanket. The frosty tree-lined old highway ushered me in on my way to work.
And my heart was in another time and another place, remembering January 12, 2010. Some years I remember my first few hours in Port au Prince Haiti, that devastating 7.0 Haitian earthquake, with fear. Some years, I remember with frustration and helplessness. Some years the day is filled with great sorrow or a threatening but carefully tucked away panic attack. This year all I can think of are the blessings, all the living I’ve been granted since that day.
In the last eleven years, God has blessed me with my two youngest babies, Nate and Violet. My then little girl babies, Zoe and Eliya are growing into beautiful young women. My marriage is growing deeper than I could have understood possible. I have a profession I didn’t dare dream of and opportunities that I couldn’t have imagined. I’ve been gifted friendships I didn’t think I deserved and am rich in people from all over the world. There has been pain and very difficult times, losses and confusion, but what a gift this living has been. The earthquake shook me to the core, and my core, is thankful for it.
So tonight, now that the house is quiet and my littles are fast asleep, I’ll pour myself a cup of hot milky tea and remember. Living is remembering.
Photo by Kayla Gibson on Unsplash
