About Last Thrusday

My internet has been acting up for several weeks now. It quit altogether week before last . Tonight I thought I would try it one more time " Just in case", to see if another miracle has happened. It has . It is working ... for the moment . I thought I would try to express  the emotions I have felt this past week.It is so difficult to put into words these feelings. So ....About last Thursday and the rest of this week.


Last Thursday, the 20th of October,Moe and I were leaving the Condo around 12:30 p.m.(noon) to the sounds of the neighborhood people shooting whatever they had available to shoot ,very scary,afraid we might be shot by a random bullet.  We drive to the cafe down the street from us to get coffee before going further , wanting to debate with Moe the wisdom of going back home since we didn't know what was happening.The coffee guy looked scared, distracted. People sitting outside looking very nervous . We could feel the tension building in the air . I became frightened but had to remain calm for Moe.The man brought us our coffee. I asked him what was on the radio we could faintly hear in the back ground.He look quickly around to see if anyone was listening.He whispered to us ever so slightly  over all the commotion around us, "I think Muammar has been shot, maybe even dead. No one knows for sure".Our hearts skipped a beat . We were not too sure how we should react to this news in so public a place.We stirred our hot coffee in silence , each of us lost in our own thoughts.My hands started to shake slightly.I glanced toward Mohamed just as he looked at me.Our unspoken thoughts were could this be true? At last?

I was of the mind to go home and the hell with getting my injection at the clinic in downtown Tagura , for by this time things were decidedly on the verge of chaos.Rocket launchers on the back of passing trucks were being fired into the air toward the beach.More gunfire from seemingly every passing car ,accompanied by shouts of Allah Akbar.Moe was insistent we go on to the clinic. He was hungry for adventure. I saw a look in his eye I haven't seen in a long time shining brightly. I was ready to crawl under any handy bed and pull the covers over my head.I was sure we would finally be killed by random gunfire.So , off we went , me driving  reluctantly , Mohamed fueled with urgency.

On the way to the clinic we were greeted by shouts of jubilation from any one on the streets. Passing cars honking rhythmically to enthusiastic waving hands holding the new national flag. Children marched out of their schools smiling ,waving their flags , shouting , cheering; down the middle of the roads. Mothers  and their children poured out of their houses in small  skittishness groups , like wild mustangs being herded .Still we disbelieved it was true , that Ghadaffy was captured or dead.It had to be another false rumor as all the others had been.I refused to believe.Moe was rocking on the brink of hesitation.I guarded my hopes close to my heart this time.I wouldn't be fooled again.  

The main health clinic in Tagura is situated next to the center of the municipal heart of Tagura.A traffic round about is there ,as well as a town square where celebrations are held. The 20 minutes it took us to get to the town square from where we had been,had changed the square into a melee of  cars , trucks with mounted guns on the back, young NTC fighters firing off any thing they could lay their hands on, to the man on the street with his own gun of choice.Smoke from so many guns being fired all at the same time had turned the air blue with smoke.It stung the eyes ,made you choke on the cordite. Our ears ushered us into near deafness.It was beyond scary.All I could think of was what goes up must come down.Shell casings littered the roads in bright copper sheets.


I found the back way into the clinic.We still didn't definitively know for sure whether or not Ghadaffy was alive ,dead, or what, at this point in time.The clinic was almost abandoned for most of the staff had joined the people on the main street that runs in front of the clinic.I found a lone nurse , sitting dejectedly staring off into space, a frown on her brow.I greeted her thankful to be inside somewhere that I felt safe from the gunfire outside.I asked her had she heard the news?Hoping she had . She gave me a go to hell look and said there wasn't any news , just false rumors. So , I asked her what she thought of all the commotion outside in the street , not realizing she was a unhappy Ghadaffy supporter.She told me a bunch of dead people were celebrating their demise .My blood ran cold with her words.That little tiny light of hope I had secretly held deep inside me went out with a sizzle.I got my injection and hobbled to the car feeling crushed , again.

I found Mohamed almost dancing a jig . If he had been capable , he would have danced. One of the clinics employees had a radio and the news was out , Ghadaffy had been captured and was now dead. It was official.It was real. A actual fact. The man was dead.Here we sat , at the end of a very long road for us.One we thought we would never see.Astonishment, amazement for the feat the young men and women of Libya had accomplished, the sacrifices we had all made , sorrow,the anger,the brains defense mechanism kicked in to protect us and refused to let us assimilate this news in too positive light. There must be a catch , there just had to be one somewhere.Then we would break into a tiny smile, as if a forbidden thought that we alone knew ,brushed up against across our conciseness. This was something that needed time.

We drove up and down the main street in downtown Tagura with the parade of humanity celebrating a miracle the rest of the day.Up and down  , back and forth we drove .Sometimes dazed,other times in euphoria bordering on hysteria .I still held something back deep inside me . I couldn't let go as the others were doing . I honked my car horn , flashed my peace sign like all the others but something said don't give in to joy just yet.Then a man on the side of the street , handing out paper to all that passed him , gave one to me.It was a picture.A picture of a man that had ruled my life in ways even Mohamed didn't know . A man that was so clever in his insanity , that he twisted everything he touched.That picture showed Ghadaffy dead.That was when I felt the dam break. The emotions came flooding out of me until tears soaked my blouse.I drove while wearing a veil of tears from pure joy and relief.

Since Thursday last ,Moe and I have run the gauntlet emotions.Disbelief still assails us off and on .Hope comes as a bright comet .We will hear a news report causing us to plummet to earth once again in near despair.Fear sneaks up to attack us in doubts for the future.Terror of the unknown lurks in dark shadows waiting to grab us if we walk to near.Happiness dances all around us in shades of  exhilaration and ecstasy.Bliss fights off  desolation.I think we will make it. I hope we will make it. I have my fingers crossed that we will make it.Good luck Libya !