‘Perspective’ not easy to aquire Even when one’s world stops, everyone else’s continues to go

The day after my mother died of cancer, I was appalled to see people going about their business all around me: neighbors mowing their lawns, women grocery shopping, teen-agers driving by with their radios blaring, and workers filing into offices. My world had momentarily stopped, yet theirs was going on.

Didn’t they know none of those activities was important, I asked angrily from the depth of personal pain? It took days – weeks perhaps – for me to put things into perspective, something I’ve tried to do in the many years since.

During other bleak times when anxieties have seemed overwhelming, there has remained that inner call, a need, in fact, to keep my problems, worries and fears “in perspective.” Otherwise, how could I cope?

This week I saw people going about their business all around me. Their world – my world – had momentarily stopped, yet then continued on.

Flashing signs on I-95, which normally note road construction or highway speed, urged “Let’s go to work, America.” From Kittery to Orono, I drove among vehicles bearing flags taped to rear windows or wrapped around radio antennae. Flags rose from front bumpers or were plastered over trunks. Highway crews in Waterville displayed their flags on heavy equipment, and a clerk in a convenience store wore a T-shirt decorated with Stars and Stripes.

“God Bless America” was written in the dust coating the back window of a panel truck. A Volvo driver had spray-painted “I Love America” across her back window. Standing in line for coffee and cinnamon buns at the Kennebunk turnoff were two men wearing hats portraying the flag.

Flags flying at half-staff from tall poles, flags draped from trees, flags waving from homes and businesses along Maine’s streets busy with everyday people doing everyday things.

Wherever I looked, people were going about their business of mowing lawns, shopping for groceries, listening to radios, filing into offices in Portland, Augusta, Bangor. Planes flew overhead. School buses traveled their routes. Stockbrokers called on clients. College students walked in the sunshine to their classes.

What I couldn’t see from my highway view, however, I knew was going on: organizations raising funds for relief efforts, state officials examining security systems, studying economic effects, emergency management planners huddling, fishermen hoping for markets, Bath Iron workers laboring, churches holding vigils, clergy offering counsel, Coast Guard personnel on alert and military reservists on notice, airport employees scrutinizing bags … and passengers.

The interstate sign flashed “Let’s Go to Work, America,” and we did, full of determination and energy, renewed dedication and pride. But since the grave events of Sept. 11, it is difficult – no, it’s impossible – to keep the travail of this time “in perspective.” In perspective to what we could not have comprehended before last Tuesday. And we still can’t.

The word itself has taken on a different meaning.