World of Mirth Reopens

I have more to say. I've just been feeling quiet, sad, heavy, angry.

Trouble in mind, I'm blue,
But I won't be blue always
The sun will shine
In my back door some day.
Trouble in mind, that's true,
I have almost lost my mind.
Life ain't worth living,
Sometimes I feel like dying.
I'm gonna lay my head
On some lonesome railroad line,
Let the 2:19 train
Ease my trouble in mind.
Trouble, oh trouble
Trouble's on your worried mind.
When you see me laughing, baby,
I'm laughing just to keep from crying.
I'm going down to the river
I'm gonna take my old rocking chair
And if those blues overtake me,
I'm gonna rock on away from there.
Trouble in mind, I'm blue,
My poor heart is beating slow.
Never had no trouble
In my life before.
Never had no trouble
In my life before

My Confusion, My Confession, My Friends Have Been Taken Away

Still I barely know what to say--There is no satisfaction in the absence of reason, the chaining of someone who is an "animal," but not that, because animals only do what their circuitry and nature direct them to, and we cannot label that in our own terms. These ones--I don't know what name to give them...criminal, assailant, monster, killer, convict, murderer, none of that is enough--I could search for the rest of my life for a word or words to name them, still that would not be enough, nothing now will ever be enough. They have scarred more hearts and souls than they could have imagined, they have ruined concrete, wood, tile, rug, curtain, grass, tree, cloth, window, the very air... a hammer is for creating and building, not for taking away. Yet I think if they were before me, and I a weapon in my hands, God fogive me, I would kill them and I would feel more for a pencil's lead breaking on a piece of paper.

No Words

Friday, It's Still Overcast

My heart is still so heavy. As I try to get back in "the swing of things" there is normalcy, the mundane details of everyday life, also the smiles of loved ones, friendly hellos at work, the dog romping with her toys, but then the crushing reality back again of terrible loss, so many sad, crying, staring, wringing hands, minds grappling with this obscene puzzle. This will go on for a long time I think.

I had a dream, the night before last, that I was talking to Kathy. We were both jabbering away, playing catch-up, what we had both been up to. She said she had moved, something she didn't think she'd ever want to do again but that it was okay. I asked her if she was happy. She smiled her big sweet smile and said "yeah, I am."

Vigil

Here I sit at my desk, a beer and a candle lit, I am trying to figure out the unfigurable, trying to make sense of all the pieces of a horrible explosion. It is impossible. I cannot get my head around it. When I can clearly see something in my head, a facial expression, the sound of someone saying "hey Lee!," a child frolicking at the pool, a smile that's in the eyes as well as on the mouth, how can these people that I'm seeing be gone? How can Bryan, Kathy, and the girls be torn away from us all by another human being? What person could do such a thing, what person could take the lives of children as though they were nothing? There is no answer to this. Even when "justice" is brought, there will still never be a satisfactory answer. What brain holds the neurons and synapses that has brought a sledgehammer down on so many hearts, that has left us reeling in confusion?

I was alone at home yesterday, trying to digest everything. When I couldn't make it any further, I left and drove around the city. Then I headed across the river and went to the house. I didn't know what else to do. It was raining. I pulled up and parked on the wrong side of the street, got out and walked over to the tree in front of their house. It was encircled with bouquets of flowers, a few stuffed animals, and children's drawings in ziplock bags. It was the stuffed bunny and Pooh and Kitty that wrenched me, and the drawings...as much as we can't understand this, what about the children, what are they to make out of things? Perhaps they have a better sense of it, I don't know. Maybe magical thinking is the way to go for now, Mommy and Daddy and the girls are on a long trip....
A older gentleman neighbor came over at that point and asked me if I thought it would be okay to move the flowers and things to the porch. The police crime lab van was still there but I said that I didn't know why not. No one stopped us. I handled the plush animals as though they were glass, they were to me, and tucked them together, all touching, to the right of the front door. It made me think of when my sister and I were little and a thunderstorm came, we would go through our bedroom and make sure that all the stuffed animals were at least in pairs, the buddy system, so they wouldn't be so scared.

I paused, squatting on my heels after we had moved everything, and looked to my left. Front windows broken, police tape over them. Chairs, a glider, a small table with a small notebook on it, but mostly it was the hula hoop that I couldn't take my eyes off of. Half on the porch, half on the chair. Left in the way that a kid would cast it off before going inside. I never would have thought that a hula hoop could cover me in such a wet wool sweater of abject sadness. I cannot remove that sweater. I cannot censor the awful visions and fight to run them over with the memories and feelings of goodness, laughs, music, Kathy's smile and laugh, visiting her at Main St Grill back in the day, our time working together at the Feast, the lovely pies she made, visiting her at the newly minted World of Mirth when it was over top of Exile, buying the rubbery scorpion women to decorate my Christmas tree when I lived on Hanover Ave in my teeny tiny apartment.

I cannot remove the sweater.

Bryan, Kathy, Stella, and Ruby Harvey

I am completely in shock...two friends and their two sweet daughters were brutally murdered in their home yesterday...New Year's Day 2006. They have an annual party...people came...they found cops and firemen, police tape and death. This is unimaginable, horrific. I have cried most of the day. I have no idea what to do. Everybody is trying to comfort one another...It's on the news, in the paper...Kathy was one of those really sweet good people that you don't meet often enough. She had the same birthday as my sister Phred so I always remembered when her birthday was, and she would always say, "I can't believe you always remember my birthday!". God damn it. God please bless the souls of Bryan, Kathy, Stella, and Ruby. Please say a prayer for them, in whatever way you pray.