The Aftermath

When the atomic bomb was dropped on Hiroshima havoc was wreaked. However, it was not over. After the bomb fell, the havoc had just begun. The aftermath of what fallowed was nothing short of hell itself.

On September 11th, 2001, terrorists attacked our country by crashing two planes into the World Trade center killing thousands. However we still see the effects of what happened. For weeks bodies were pulled out of the wreckage. And even today, over five years later, when we look at where these two buildings stood we see a huge hole.

Last month, when I learned of my brother’s death, I was hit hard. It knocked me off my feet. It was a very numbing experience. I didn’t know how or what to feel. It was like nothing I have ever experienced. Today, over a month later, as life seems to carry on, the numbness has begun to wear off. I no longer feel the initial shock of the tragedy that was experienced, but the reality begins to sink in deeper and deeper. No longer is the first conversation I have with people related to my brothers death. I feel as if I am in the aftermath of a horrible tragedy.

I was recently talking to a firefighter about this and he shared with me some of his feelings about 9/11. He shared with me how each year he has a special flag he hangs at half-mast to remember that awful day. People have forgotten and have moved on. The truth is that there still remains a giant hole and will continue to remain a hole.

Benji has left a giant hole in my life and it hasn’t gone away. The dust has settled, and the pain medication has begun to wear off, and the pain is once again setting in. It is a different pain; one not quite as excruciating, but more constant. There is something missing in my life. Something I held dear. It was ripped from me. Torn from my possession. And although I know I must move on, the wounds and the scars still remain. The pain continues to linger on with no sign of letting up. Why must life continue?

In the case of the atomic bomb, the aftermath can be just as deadly, if not more, than the initial shock. People died by the thousands from the radiation that was a result of the bomb. Those who didn’t die faced deformities in their bodies. There lives were never the same. Benji will never be a part of my earthly life again. This is hard to grasp and very difficult to live with. It is hard to continue—day after day, moment after moment. My life will never be the same again. There is something missing. Something is not right and while I am still here on this earth it will never be made right again. Death is not supposed be easy. It doesn’t just go away.