It’s been 2 weeks since the 6.3.

I’m guessing that’s how people will refer to it as time goes by.  There was the 7.1 that rocked Christchurch on September the 4th, 2010 and now the 6.3 that devastated the city on February the 22nd, 2011.

That’s 2 weeks since I witnessed what has been dubbed “Christchurch’s darkest hour”

2 weeks since a concrete beam fell from the frontage of the Winnie Bagoes Pizza Restaurant and lay itself right through the centre of the car I had parked less than an hour earlier.

2 weeks since that same beam laid itself right through the centre of the van that was parked directly behind me, killing the driver.

2 weeks since I was standing in The Iconic Bar, chatting and laughing with colleagues.

2 weeks since I tried furiously to dig my colleagues from the rubble of the building that we had been standing in, only minutes earlier.

2 weeks since the world lost Jaime.

It’s been 2 weeks and I wonder to myself, when will I go a whole day without shedding a tear?  When will I be able to listen to the news on the radio, or read it in the paper, or watch it on the television, without my eyes welling up with water?  When will I be able to greet people I haven’t seen for a while without the overwhelming need to give them a hug? (And not just a quick “throw your arms around” hug, but an all-embracing MAN hug)  When will I be able to farewell friends with something other than “Stay safe!”?

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