Stop the clocks

The first image of the Christchurch earthquake that scored a direct hit to the heart for me was the Victoria St clock which had stopped at 4.35 a.m. when the earthquake hit. Largely because it was instantly recognisable, unlike the early images of devastation which just didn't seem to compute.

Most of my friends know that, if asked, I'm a Canterbury girl. I went to school and university in Christchurch, was married there, had my first baby there. The majority of my extended family live there or within it's environs. So on the morning of September 4, when I woke to a text from a friend in Sydney to say she hoped my family were OK after the earthquake, never mind the clocks - my heart stopped. All my family were OK, as were the many friends old and new. But it has been really hard being in Brisbane and so far away.

Which is another part of the reason the clocks (I've now seen a similar photo of a the Railway Station clock) seem so symbolic. That poem used in Four Weddings and a Funeral "Stop all the clocks" is evocative of living somewhere where life goes on when at heart you are in a different place. While I live with the nagging concerns of what the next round of aftershocks might bring and the magnitude of what has happened in a city I love, here everyone goes on oblivious. Certainly I have met with concern from people I work with but for them it is all so far away - and while we are incredibly thankful nobody died...well...nobody died.

But as another friend from Canterbury commented - our memories are interwoven with the urban landscape they took place in. I had seen the pictures of the Rep Theatre several times before someone on Facebook said to me "that's the Rep Theatre" and I was overwhelmed that the damage was such I hadn't even recognised somewhere I had many memories of. And the Railway Clock - how many times did I look up at that while lugging a heavy suitcase down the road to catch the train home from boarding school!

Many of the older buildings, particularly the churches, around where we live were built at a similar time to central Christchurch. Last night, when I was out getting takeaways for dinner, I found myself irrationally annoyed that the church I went past was totally undamaged and untouched by what had happened an ocean away. It was so totally unwarranted but also symbolic of how worried many of us are not just for our friends and family but for the heart of our city that represents the generations that built it.

So to everyone in Christchurch - we are with you in spirit - we can't begin to imagine the ongoing stress of the aftershocks, and the tediousness of the days ahead as the time required for proper repairs eats away at your patience. But we hold you in our hearts, we are proud of what you are achieving, and share your sorrow over what the earth has done to our beautiful city.