°THIRTEEN WEEKS AFTER THE DISASTER°
Yesterday after much thought I began to write, or at least design, my blog A Tear in My Soul. I´ve already written entries from the day of the disaster and the time immediately afterwards. It´s starting to take shape. I´m determined to write about this although it´s extremely upsetting. My internet diary is an outlet for my grief. I´m asking the public to participate because I want to make sure that the innocent victims and the despicable mass murderer are never forgotten. It´s my way of memorializing the victims.
I also want people to see how the grieving process affects one´s life and what happens with family members in the face of such misfortune. I know from numerous conversations that people often feel the same way. Perhaps you can discover something for yourself in the blog. It would be good if someone could find comfort or help.
Almost everyone encounters those who are grieving and I would be pleased if my blog helps people not to be afraid of them.
And if what I´ve written is too depressing for some, they are free to ignore the blog.
We meet our neighbours on the stairs and as soon as they see us they give me big hugs. Not until they saw the obituary in the newspaper did they realise that people affected were living in their neighbourhood. They were clueless. How could they have known? We deliberately kept a low profile.
They are deeply upset and struggle to find words.
Thirteen weeks ago the German Airbus crashed in the Alps of southern France.
The funeral is approaching and panic sets in when I think about it. How will I make it through the day? No parents should bury their child – it´s unnatural. It´s just not done, rather the other way round: children bury their parents.
We go to the cemetery to visit my parent´s graves. Their urns are buried in a family plot for six. I thought I´d be next. I´m shocked when I see a small plate on the grave covering a space the undertakers have hollowed out for the urn. It will contain our son´s ashes and will then be buried. It is horrible beyond belief.
We have to put up a second gravestone as the first has no space for another name, so we find a stonemason. Contrary to our expectations his office is closed so we have to try again tomorrow. This is stressful. I don´t want any of this … Jens should show up with a joyful hello and a hug … Am I starting to go mad?
© Brigitte Voß / Translation: Ellen Rosenbaum