September 11th...

It's hard to fathom that a whole year ago, life here in America came to standstill because of the terrorist attacks. All of a sudden, the stupid things of our pop culture that people put too much stock into (ex. "Who's Britney dating? What's Puffy Daddy wearing?") were put into perspective.

In honor of all innocents who have died since the event, American, Afghan, or any human for that matter...

In Flander's fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie,
In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flander's fields.

"In Flander's Fields", by John McCrae

Speaking of war & peace, and yearnings for normalcy...

I had coffee with my sister tonight... something very odd, because my sister and I met to just chat. Anyone who knows my sister and I knows that's an event on parallel status with the sea turning to blood or the moon colliding into the Earth... it just doesn't happen. We're about as different as two people can be.

I'm a guy... she's a girl. (duh)
I'm older... she's younger.
I'm an introvert... she's an extrovert.
I'm scholarly... she's athletic.
I'm easy going and patient... she's high energy and tenacious.

As anyone can guess, our relationship has always been strained... probably on account of our genetic heritage of stubbornness from our parents. And yet, blood is blood and my sister has always been a part of who I am, though perhaps indirectly. It's odd how much one's relationship with one's family, especially their siblings, can affect their relationships with others. My friends Steph and Cora have wisely theorized on occasion that their relationship to me as adopted moi (little sisters) is a part of my own feelings of frustation, hurt and loss in my relationship with my own sister. As i'm sure the theory goes, I spoil and indulge them out of the psychic guilt I bear from mistakes and shortcomings as an older brother, even a father figure in light of the passing and absence of our own father.

Anyways, I think my sister and I are approaching the point in our lives where hopefully, we've matured beyond the fighting of our youth and young adulthood. Perhaps it has been the events of this past year, Sept 11, the many funerals and passings in our own family... it's as if God Himself has quietly been working to change the both of us to the point where we can put aside our differences and love each other as family should. Meeting my sister for coffee and a chat is a step in that direction, because the first step in always loving somebody is to know them and know them truly. We've been strangers of sorts these past 5 or 6 years, and God willing... that'll change.


posted by G at 11:48 PM   |

in?scrip?tion (n-skrip-shun)n.
1. The act or an instance of inscribing.
2. Something, such as the wording on a coin, medal, monument, or seal, that is inscribed.
3. A short, signed message in a book or on a photograph given as a gift.
4. The usually informal dedication of an artistic work.
5. Jeremiah 31:33