Monday was a more difficult day than I had expected. I thought cleaning up the pieces Sunday night would have me feeling more whole by the next day, but as I shared on Monday, I couldn't escape reliving the event in my mind.
I'm glad to say that with each passing day, the thoughts of Sunday night have become less frequent. In my memory, the force of the blast lessens, the sounds dampen, and the images dim. I hardly even thought about it yesterday and today unless, for some reason, I've had to. I can move about the apartment with confidence again and even going onto the laundry balcony at night doesn't bother me. The quiet of my afternoons and evenings at home is once again full of peace rather than uneasiness.
Like a breath of fresh air, good news recently came from a friend back home and from friends here. Such glad tidings have been carrying me through the week as well as God's grace.
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On a final note, this morning I got to ride the elevator with the man from my building who was injured by the explosion. His hands were bandaged and his walk was labored. In fact, he could only walk with the support of someone. Still, he managed a faint smile as he exited the elevator. I'm sure his life will not be the same for some time yet.
2 comments:
oh wow!
i was going to email you and thank you for the most awesome card and love the little magnet things for books. nice. youre so rockin'ly thougthful. i don't have your email though- and no, i don't know why. but this story is amazing. i can't believe it! more from me when i get your email address:D. i'm glad you're okay!!
Wow, Kara. I think between your floor exploding and a major gas attack, I think it's safe to say that your apartment building is officially the real-life manifestation of Ghostbusters. Next thing you know, all the evil energy of the world will be concentrated on the rooftop of your building, and a Stay-Puft Marshmallow Man is going to be walking around downtown Kaohsiung. --Emi
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