Wednesday, July 27, 2011

Lockerbie - A Reminder

On the news this morning, more on the Lockerbie bomber. I'm not sure which makes me more angry, that experts announced, that after his hero's welcome after his "compassionate" release, that he really isn't on the edge of death, and may live at least ten more years and there really wasn't any hard evidence that he was dying when he was released. Or that he now continues to show up in public TWO YEARS LATER, now at a rally to support Gadafi.

I sit in safety, warm and peaceful, and though I may complain about long weeks, nights often spent in the wet and iron chill of the places in which I sometimes make my living, I have much to be grateful for. A career that's a steady challenge, people who mean the absolute world to me, and around me, photos of family and a life well lived.

After a disaster such as that you see the pictures in the paper, the photos of the dead, strangers, stand out in relief to the pictures of the familiar. Strangers, yet all dear to someone.

In my mind those pictures of lives left unlived, mix in with the the pictures of the life I was fortunate enough to have experienced. There's foreign ports, and distant mountains, and a blur of days that run into the setting sun. I look down at the photos and see the last 40 or so years as a bystander to my own life. It is like drifting along the river on a boat, floating effortlessly and without volition upon moving waters as your life goes past, those years in which your youth vanished.

But still, though past, a life lived. Something the victims of Flight 103 were denied.

When my Mom died, I was filled with anger for her leaving us so quickly, but I was also filled with respect for her being strong enough to say, unplug the plugs, I'm ready to go.. She achieved what Richard Hugo wrote about in one of his last poems,"Death in the Aquarium."

Where should we die, given a choice?
In a hothouse. Along a remote seldom traveled dirt road?
Isn't some part of that unidentified man in us all,
that wants to die where we started?

Life is not fair and nature and fate sometimes knocks when we'd rather not answer. But to have the very breath of what we are taken away in a deliberate act of violence is a sacrilege, not something to be be flaunted in public like a celebration. We should remember rather, the tragic mute bones that could have withstood anything life threw their way, if only left upright and undisturbed.

This morning, I will turn off the TV to the reminder of the travesty which was a decision made. Today there will be only a moment of respect for those souls that seemed to have been forgotten by one court's decision. A moment in which I will look skyward, wishing their souls godspeed as the light vanishes with a soft sigh.

As I look to the sky I grieve for the way they were taken as much as the senseless "why".  I grieve for a world that gives succor to terrorists and those that recognize with honor a man who may well have stolen all that could be, from them.


  1. A beautiful post, Brigid. Thank you.

  2. Your words express the grace and beauty that these souls deserve.

    Your tribute to the lives of these people - strangers to you - are a giving, a caring, that stands in beautiful sharp contrast to the dark selfish deeds of the madmen that commit horrific acts leaving scorched bits behind.

    Your statement "to have the very breath of what we are taken away in a deliberate act of violence is a sacrilege" I hope, I pray, alert us all to the unfairness of cruel acts that happen all to often in this beautiful world.

    These words needed to be said. Thank you for expressing them so eloquently.

  3. Beautiful Post and tribute.

    I agree with North "Your words express the grace and beauty these souls deserved"

    Thank You.

  4. How nice of you to remember, and remind us.

  5. well though diabetes, and other infirmities lay me low, I seriously considered the logistics of becoming the Libyan Gary Faulkner.

    You remember the old boy that was snagged in Afghanistan intending on snagging that reward for Osama's head, as Jeff Dunham would say, On A Steek!

    I sometimes think I may have made the wrong choice.

  6. God bless those souls lost, and the souls the left behind.

    Knowing that there are those who remember is sometimes enough.

  7. Very well said, indeed. Sometimes the most poignant of messages are contained in the very silence we spurn with the babble of the talking heads.

    Thank you.

  8. Brigid,

    Something you never forget. Never.

    Well said.

    Thank you,


  9. Great post! 103 will NOT be forgotten.

  10. There things that happen in the world for the selfish interests of a few. There are consequences that are not always applied. Walking free, flaunting others for their evil act open memories that become seared. To forget is not, to forgive is yes. The memories of many rest on the shoulders of many martyrs over the eons. Where will the next selfish act come from, how many will be lost, a cycle that knows no end, even in death it lives on.

    There are the few who care and remember the losses.

  11. So sad with all of the US lead NATO bombing we did there recently somebody in the intel community couldn't of gotten a fix on him and had a JDAM dropped on him....


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