Da Goddess

I don’t like this day. I don’t like the memories of the many deaths, some of which were caught on camera. I don’t like thinking of the horror of the events this day 22 years ago.

I hate the fact far too many lost an important part of their family. I hate that it was hate which denied these people a chance at a future.

But, I remember, too, how neighbors came to the aid of those they didn’t know. How we turned to one another to comfort and be comforted. How untold numbers of men and women ran toward danger to help others, to help strangers.

We’ll never forget what happened 22 years ago, nor should we. We must remember the gut-wrenching terror and heartbreaking sorrow, the astonishing heroism and tender outpouring of love, and the tragedy that forever changed the world.

#NeverForget

Kids say the darnedest things. They also think the darnedest things.

Today’s memory brought to you by the magic of Memory Dumps: Safe disposal of all your sensitive information. “If you don’t need to know it, we’ll make sure it’s the only thing you remember while simultaneously deleting vital information!”

So…anyway…I woke up recalling how I used to think She Walks In Beauty by Lord Byron was a great poem,but was confused by the “meat in the aspic” line. When I asked my mom about aspic, she reassured me that it could, indeed, contain meat or meat byproducts. Then she wanted to know why I was asking and I told her Grandma had read me a poem about it. Ever confused by my explanation, Mom called Grandma. After their conversation, my mom read me the poem again and explained the line is “meet in the aspect.” And there you have it: kid brain thoughts.

She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that’s best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes;
Thus mellowed to that tender light
Which heaven to gaudy day denies.

One shade the more, one ray the less,
Had half impaired the nameless grace
Which waves in every raven tress,
Or softly lightens o’er her face;
Where thoughts serenely sweet express,
How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.

And on that cheek, and o’er that brow,
So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
The smiles that win, the tints that glow,
But tell of days in goodness spent,
A mind at peace with all below,
A heart whose love is innocent!

I think it would be an even better poem if it was about meat in aspic.