I‘m having a difficult time turning my attention to anything light or funny right now. I’ve begun three different posts in the last few days and deleted them all. I want to tell you local stories and interesting observations that might otherwise be funny, but knowing there are children in Haiti trapped and dying and waiting for help too slow in coming – I can’t shake it.
The stories and images on CNN and elsewhere have burned through my skin and marked me. I hug The Perfect Grandson too tightly at times and kiss his fat little cheeks until he has to push me away. I don’t care. I have the luxury of knowing where he is and that he’s not hungry or alone in the dark. Or worse.
The thing is, I’m taking this tragedy personally. Many people just as removed from the earthquake as I am are feeling the same. Empathy isn’t a tap that turns cleanly off and I guess it shouldn’t be. Loving and aching for people we don’t know in places we’ve never visited should not be difficult. Something in our DNA must connect us all, like twins who feel each other’s pain, simply because we are human.
It’s the sense of helplessness that’s haunting me right now. There are things to be done and very few time-sensitive ways to make them happen in Haiti. I’ve given money. Past that, I’m just some grandmother sitting in a chair watching the news. I’d rather be clawing at concrete, bare-handed and bleeding.
CNN has a list of emergency relief groups who need your donations. You can also donate $10 via text to the American Red Cross. Simply text “Haiti” to 90999. Giving in this time of anguish is the most and the least we can do.