sirens

Two police cars just blasted past Chez Impolitic with their sirens and lights going. They were moving easily at 50 down this residential street. I imagine some of the cars coming to our old house did the same thing a year and a half ago. That said, here's a little update on where I am with all of that these days.

Sirens and loud sounds still make me jump, but they have ever since (at least) the shooting at Arkansas in 2000. I still have occasional flashbacks. Overall, though, I've accepted a different take on the whole thing—I am a hero, but I am not larger-than-life; I'm not the only person who has ever been shot, randomly or purposely; the experience was awful and is immutable at this point; and finally, it has simply become part of a remarkable set of growth experiences within the past few years.

I'm not saying that the case is closed—it isn't—but I am saying that am finally beginning to move beyond a certain level of solipsism.