The dogs go on with their doggy life

Today is the fifteenth anniversary of the Oklahoma City bombing. I was a junior in high school; I remember seeing something about it on TV in the classroom of a teacher that my friend and I liked to eat lunch with. The weird thing is that I mostly remember the day because I got my hair cut. After school I drove to the salon and had it chopped up to my ears, my first short hair-do in about eight years or so. During the last fifteen years I've often thought about that day and the particular combination of events. Other tragedies I've experienced have demonstrated the same thing; while we are getting our hair cut, planning our class schedules, eating, sleeping, playing games, someone is suffering. Times like these remind me that that Auden was right. Most of us see the splash and go on with our lives. Or we read about it in the paper and then throw that paper away in the recycling bin. But during the last fifteen years I've also learned that all of us will some day be Icarus, splashing into the ocean. So while I mourn with those in Oklahoma City who mark every April 19th, I also have my own sacred places and dates. And I resolve to remember to treat others with kindness and grace, because on the days that I am the plowman turning away from the tragedy, someone else is Icarus falling into the sea unnoticed.

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