September 26, 2001

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  A Dance On September 11, 2001

  
  

  By stressmagnet

  
  

  My daughter is wearing a pink frilly t-shirt and a denim pinafore so stiffly flounced that she looks like she’s wearing a lampshade. She is amusing herself by pulling it over her head and showing the world her panties and her little belly button. Her fat legs are dancing around while she is headless, giggling with glee at her own daring and my heart just breaks wide open.

  
  

  I am weeping. I am weeping for the loss of innocence, for the knowledge that the world is a terrible place.

  
  

  I weep for the mothers, the fathers, the daughters and sons. So many.

  
  

  I weep for the change in the world, the terrible realisation that none of us are safe. I weep for the changes to come, the knowledge that this won’t end; this won’t be the only tragedy.

  
  

  I weep for the realisation that in a month, a year, 5 years, this will be a note in history, and life will have continued. I weep for the jokes, the cynicism and the posturing that shows how distant we have become from who we once were.

  
  

  I weep for the women on the other side of the world, who love their children as much as I love my child, and know that their lives have been altered too.

  
  

  I weep, and my daughter is dancing.

  
  

  Dancing with hope and with the joy of living and of being who she is in that exact moment in time.

  
  

  So in that spirit, I send my love to all the mothers in this world – all of them, wherever they are, who watch their children dance.

  
  

  • 1:18 am
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