Postrapture Post May 23, 2011
Posted by indigobunting in Uncategorized.trackback
I am still here. Sue’s daughter apparently graduated. She’s the only one of her family I’ve seen on Facebook, but I imagine that if any of the rest of them had been taken up in the rapture that Katie would have noticed and made some sort of announcement.
I hope you are all still here too.
Because of course, rapture or no rapture, not everyone is still here. On Friday, my neighbor rushed to her dying father’s bedside, where the prognosis was “two hours to two days.” I got the call on Saturday afternoon—while attending an almost-Thanksgiving–themed party—that he had died at 2:30 that day. I sat on the sunny porch, taking in the magnificent view, talking and crying with Lynda, then tried to depuff my eyes and nose before returning to the boisterous and joyful gathering of friends who had already polished off the devastatingly delicious mashed potatoes.
And this morning the news of the tornado in Joplin, Missouri,* where the death toll at this hour stands at eighty-nine.
Not everyone is still here.
Every day people are taken up or taken away. And to many of us who are still here, it feels like taken away.
*Coincidentally mentioned in today’s Writer’s Almanac as the town where Bonnie and Clyde, killed seventy-seven years ago today, “were nearly caught at a rented apartment . . . in 1933.”
Route 153 
I was thinking about Joplin as I woke this morning to the news, about how many very conservative Christians live in southern/southwestern Missouri. Not that I make the connection between the rapture and the tornado, but I’ll bet there are folks who will.
B: No doubt.
god, i hate to hear of people dying. i am so sorry. one died here, too, in a tornado on sunday. he was killed when a tree branch crashed through his windshield. equally heartbreaking: a heron rookery on the mississippi river was wiped out. oh man.
Laurie: How awful, both the person and—as you know, I’m a birder, so I care—the heron rookery. Heartbreaking.
I am still here. And so are the people I love (the ones who were here on Friday anyway). And after this post, I know how lucky I am.
Present and accounted for (mostly). I’m sorry to hear of your friend’s loss. It’s hard to say goodbye to a dad.
Thanksgiving-themed party? I want in on that mashed potato dreaminess.
Jenny, it was inspired. There ain’t nothin’ wrong with warm-weather turkey, gravy, and mashed potatoes.
A scary spring, for sure. I didn’t think the effects of global warming would hit so soon.
Lovely post Indigo (obviously I too am still here).
I’m still here too. And lots of people in this part of the world are being taken away as well, rapture or no rapture.
Sorry to hear about your neighbor’s loss. This post reminded me of The Garden Party by Katherine Mansfield, though the circumstances are similar only at certain levels.
D: I know I’ve read that Masfield, but it’s been a quarter century at least…I should look for it.