Where was I this time last year?
Trying to come to terms with the loss of my home of seventeen years, the death of my beautiful Roj-dog after more than fourteen years of companionship, and trying to find my mixing bowls in the stack of boxes still to be unpacked.

Where was I at 10:30 pm that Tuesday evening?
Answering the phone and being told to watch the TV by a young shocked voice.

Where was I at 10:32 pm Western Australian time?
On my knees in horror that so many people were in the process of being killed, and in such a way as to first discount the images as merely great special effects but only because the horror and anguish of it really happening were so great that I didn't want to see it.
I went into my children's rooms, looked at their peacefully sleeping faces and wept that this had happened now.

Twenty-four hours of news coverage later, when better and more information is becoming available, I hang on to my Internet connection as first one, then another of my on-line New York friends checks in. There's a horrid wait for news of a family member but they just had trouble getting to a phone. The relief and guilt that those I know in the two cities are safe seems suddenly out of all proportion to what is happening to others.

How could this have happened? I don't think there are many really good answers to that. Except possibly that the arrogance of both sides to this conundrum is something to be really worried about.

May those who have gone rest in peace.
May those who are left find peace.
May the reasons this happened find a positive life affirming resolution.