September 13, 2001

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I didn't get weepy till today. What finally let me let go? A post to this message board from one of its usual posters, announcing that he was fine and appreciated that people had posted asking about him. He had lost track of his password and couldn't get to the e-mail in which he had it.

I managed to resist the urge to point out to him that he could have registered again and saved a lot of people from worrying about him. He was known to work in midtown Manhattan, and we were all pretty sure he was safe, but you never know till you know.

Bits of grace from the day: an attorney at the firm who had just had an emotionally-draining meeting with a grieving client came out to my desk and put her hands on my shoulders. She asked how I was doing, specifically since I live alone and didn't have as many people to talk with as those who had households with more people at hand. She had had conferences with two people today, both having problems dealing with the horrors. I appreciated her concern, and told her that I was doing pretty well. I thought I was doing pretty well.

But you know something? I did not realize how much I needed some good news till I got home and checked that message board and saw the post I mentioned.

No, I don't know the man who posted to the board. I haven't had any contact with him at all, except having read many of his posts to the board and its predecessor over the last year or so. But it meant a lot, in this week of hearing stories of such profound horror, to learn that someone was okay.

And a bit of advice: even if you don't think anyone is concerned about you, if you live in or near one of the areas affected by the terror, and haven't made your alive-ness known to your acquaintances, do it. No one will mind getting good news.

Even if it makes them weepy.