Today I was.... Strange for me. I can't seem to think of any other way to describe it. Like it happened to someone else. Even know, I'm thinking back and trying to find the differences between what happened and a Law and Order episode. I keep remembering turning my head and seeing the car hit, feeling the sheer force of it all, and worst of all I just want to write it all down. I just find it really fake of myself to take the truth and turn it into fiction, but writing really is all about bringing yourself into your writing. I'd just be bringing something totally new to the table.
But the worst part I feel about writing it down is distancing myself even further from what happened. Writing it as if it didn't happen to me in the first place, which isn't the case. While I was there, I only started tearing up once from what I can recall, and that was only once my Mom showed up. Seeing her was bringing me back into it, and that was what scared me most about the entire thing that happened, putting myself there.
I guess it was stranger when the police and ambulences came, because I knew the cops and the ambulence workers..... And no one else in my group did. My mom making conversation about my older cousins with the kid taking my blood pressure who lives down the street, or the cop telling me when my Mom first got there because we all knew each other, the cop who grew up with my mother.
Sometimes I just feel out of place with how many roots I've grown in this town. I grew up here, my parents both grew up here, and my Grandparents will all die here, three already have and Nana is not going anywhere any time soon. And I have to face it, it could have been much worse and I could have died in this town today. It's mind boggling to me how many people I know who've grown up here, which is many, and yet how many of them have just moved here, which again is many. My mom went to school at the High School, and she had a friend in the seventies or eighties who died in a car crash.
I've heard so many stories... And yet none of them are stories to me. These were peoples lives. I don't know about what I intended for this blog post to do for me. Maybe to help me sleep, or just soothe my feelings. But now that I think I'm on the subject of Mortality, which I might have just been beating around the bush about the entire time, I think I'll save it for another day. I mean, there's all this time to talk about death during life, right? I guess I'm just one lucky Irish Lass, among other things.
No comments:
Post a Comment