There is not enough anger for my anger,
there is not enough grief for my grief.
As the two-year anniversary of the earthquake approaches, I am finding myself with a case of insomnia. Here I am, enjoying the perfect Haitian winter, lying awake with my head filled with thoughts I can’t escape. Sure, it’s natural to reflect on what has happened as another year ends, yet what I can’t seem to get away from is all the things that haven’t happened.
The hundreds of thousands who haven’t moved out of the camps they set up after the earthquake, two years ago. The permanent homes that haven’t been constructed, hell even the temporary shelters that haven’t been built. The tarps that only last a couple of months yet haven’t been replaced after two years. The jobs that haven’t been created, the billions that haven’t been spent, the building back better that apparently will never happen.