A highway bridge in Minneapolis collapsed last night sending cars and people crashing into the Mississippi River last night at rush hour. This horror, more than other recent horrors I've read and heard bout, freaks me out. Bridges aren't supposed to collapse - so many things that happen in the world shouldn't happen - but bridges crumbling under cars and cars tumbling into river disturbs me in some out of proportion way. Maybe its partly because during the recent family road trip KK called me twice on big bridges, excitedly proclaiming that they were crossing the M-I-S-S-I-S-S-I-P-P-I river, a river whose crossing always impresses me. I didn't cross it myself until I was thirty.

. I keep imagining terrified kids strapped into car seats, plummeting into churning waters, and frantic parents struggling to rescue their children. I worry that I would not be able to do the right things fast enough in an emergency like that and that children would die because of my ineptitude.

There are only seven dead at this point, fewer than in many incidents of violence here and especially in other parts of the world - but this particular image of horror has me shaken. Partly, I don't understand it the way I understand it the way I understand damage from tornadoes, hurricanes and earthquakes. Also, bridges aren't supposed to collapse, bridges connect.

Bridges connect.
I take them for granted.
Bridges of promises,
terms of endearment,
shared experience,
steel girders, concrete.
Can't take them for granted.
Bridges collapse.


I need to muster the discipline to go to bead - avoiding bridge collapse dreams, I think.