I keep seeing posts that honor the people who died on 9/11. It makes me sad, but not nearly as sad as listening to my friend tell of the quiet death of her husband that same year or the thought that thousands of other people died that day including the terrorists themselves who probably had their own tragic stories to tell.
It just reminds me that life is not black and white or even shades in between. It is a cacophony of voices desparately trying to find a single note that is more complex than we can remember alone.
I live desparately and noisily, and that is my revenge and my gift.