Wednesday, November 16, 2011
The small girl holding her hand was once the baby with big cheeks whose father James lost his life trekking through the frigid wilderness in search of rescue. Now she was just a five year old at the grocery store with her mom.
Underneath our routines lurk the things we live through and conquer, things that change our lives forever. The faces that now are at rest surveying produce were once grimacing in the worst kind of pain.
Life marches boldly on.
I worried and waited and mourned James Kim, a virtual stranger, in the same way I wanted to acknowledge and celebrate two strangers in the aisles at New Seasons today.
I think I would have cried if I HAD approached them, so moved was I by just seeing her and thinking about what that tiny family went through in the wilds of Oregon. Instead, I bought my apples and my wheat bread and went about my day, their story punctuating my thoughts nevertheless.
I didn't say one word to them, but I will say it here: I remember.
at 1:13 AM