Thus it remains, and the remainder thus.

After the losses, the storm-battered shores, the hours in the dark, the confidence shaken, there is a glimpse of what remains – a flash, really – but the kind that gets in and makes a difference. What is left is concern, is human empathy, is love, really. And how terrible the cliché that love sits at the center, drawing love around love, making circles both smaller and larger at once. Me? I got magnetized, feeling the presence and the absence of all the people I love, no matter how far – and my family – miles and miles away, felt closer somehow and I wanted to gather them to me – the friends, the family, tie them all up in a mesh-bag, like the kind you put your delicates in, in the wash. . .and protect them somehow – that as the world spins them around, they will roll, safely together in their delicate bag, untorn by the outside world. Then, too, I became more concerned with strangers. How did that clerk in that luxury goods store get to work? Do they have power at home? Was it 3 hours of waiting to get out of Brooklyn to get there? If I were to go into that store, I can almost guarantee that this same clerk I am worried about would, look me up and down with a withering, “You don’t belong here” stare. But I’m worried about her anyway.
When the losses tip back toward gains, we might all forget this little cone of kindness but it remains in there. It remains.

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