Elegy for Ella

Ok, friends, it's official: Ella the Orchid is, sadly, expired. I hung on to her - cut down to the stubs of her stems - for probably much longer than any realistic person would. And I've waited to write about it, because, well, I suppose I've been mourning her loss. It pains me, it really does - in a way that makes me feel like I may be a serious freak.

Anyway, today is as good a day as any to write about mourning and loss. I'm in the city but haven't noticed anything particularly different or strange other than the "official" memorials and ceremonials. But then again, I've been inside for much of the day. My connection to the events of 9/11 are pretty abstract: I was living in Seattle at the time, and I didn't know anyone personally who died in the attacks. I called my friend S. and miraculously got through to her cell phone; she was walking uptown from the Federal Court Building, describing the scene to me in real time. But it definitely did not feel real.

I do not, generally, feel worried or unsafe in New York City. I do, on the other hand, feel nervous when I am in the country by myself, when there's nothing but me and a dirt road and 30 acres of farm land surrounding and two guys on ATVs driving by, slowly, eyeing my house. I wonder how many people actually, in their guts, walk around feeling afraid after 9/11. I wonder if there is a difference between the fear levels of city people and country people. People vote and take passionate political stances based on this, and so I wonder how conscious this fear really is, if at all. I wonder how much (and the nature of any) unconscious fear I myself carry with me when I'm in the city.

But back to mourning... I have thought about trying again, with a new orchid plant. But I think maybe I'm not ready yet. Not just yet.