My heart goes out to you and your family.

As the firemen laid out the time line it became clear that if several events had happened just a bit differently, the scale of the tragedy could have been lessened. It remined me of how easily Ubu’s death could have been avoided. I pretty much collapsed right then and there and let all the grief overpower me. The course had been set, and even though budging it a millimeter would have meant the world, time’s arrow was the ultimate barrier, doom. I pondered that for a long time, and it came to me how it also served as salvation. Those are not two easy thoughts to keep in one’s head at the same time, but doing so made all the difference to me.

And that is a great line you’ve written, as Duke pointed out…it’s almost a beatitude itself, something to meditate upon.

Peace.
Greg

You are a strong and thoughtful person and I’m thankful you shared this with us all.

My thoughts are with you.

I wrote a lot about personal philosophy around serenity through reflection in the days after the funeral. I hope to organize those notes and make something of them some day.

That is precisely the center of what I wanted to communicate. I’ve always felt that we could use more discussion of how people cope with tragedy and loss from a more generally humanistic perspective. There is plenty in academic philosophy, but I think it would be nice to have more from a visceral, personal perspective. I was hoping to do my tiny part, and I was hoping that doing so would be a fitting tribute to those I’ve lost.

I was also quite taken with the below, which is likewise something I would have great difficulty articulating:

“I believe having lived a moment is to have consummated a purpose. Whatever glee or sorrow may lie in moments to come has no power over the blessing of that consummated purpose. The arrow of time is a doom, and a salvation.”

whatever the topic, uche, i am always drawn to your writing. you work sentences together so beautifully, and i’m glad those lovely girls have you to write about them.

Thank you.

“The two paragraphs below the photo are quite wonderful. You distilled a universe into those few sentences.”

That makes my day.

I imagine. I’ll never forget your friendship, then and ever.

“People say the one must be so strong to survive such tragedies. While this may be true, I think it is more the result rather than the prerequisite. And if the resultant strength is proportionate to loss, then you are hands down the strongest person I know.”

Very kind of you, especially since that’s precisely how I measure my brother.

“What a blessing those girls were in their moment.”

And it amazes me the extent to which my family has carried their moment forward. Blessings are the ultimate superpower.

I looked about and saw that under the sun the race is not to the swift nor the battle to the strong, nor bread to the wise nor riches to the learned nor favor to the skilled, but that time sets upon all.

First of all, thanks to everyone for their condolences. I can well imagine that hearing of such a tragedy it’s hard to even think beyond it. I suppose somewhere deep down I thought it might be the case that the tragedy would defeat my purpose in writing the piece.

Paradoxically, the entire point of my piece was to deny the tragedy such power; to forbid it from sucking all the life out of any discussion. It’s perhaps the hardest assessment I’ll ever try to make in my lifetime, but I think that on balance, my family has succeeded in wresting that power from the tragedy. Clearly we’ve had to bleed every drop from our veins several times over before any such healing. Perhaps it’s impossible to share the resulting, transcendent peace. Perhaps it was foolish for me to try.

I do want to say that it was not intended as a sympathy piece. Farthest ever from. That much said, I repeat my appreciation. I do want everyone to know, with the disclaimer once again of the difficulty of any such assessment, that my family is well.

Thanks.

The two paragraphs below the photo are quite wonderful. You distilled a universe into those few sentences.

These facts you have told us are unspeakable.
I wish I had not looked at the picture.
Beautiful people/horrible death
Whatever philosophy or religion you espouse, there is no solving that math.
I, also, am deeply sorry for your loss.

And that was wonderfully put Erika.

People say the one must be so strong to survive such tragedies. While this may be true, I think it is more the result rather than the prerequisite. And if the resultant strength is proportionate to loss, then you are hands down the strongest person I know.

What a blessing those girls were in their moment.