When I opened my eyes this morning, my husband was already dressed and about to leave for work. He said, "It's another gorgeous blue September 11 day. Look outside." We all remember the blue that day, the crispness of the air, what pilots call "severe clear." It is almost that blue today, but not quite. I think that as long as I live, no morning will ever be quite that blue again.
I'm sure this days is harder for you and your Family more than I could ever imagine.
ReplyDeleteJohnny was the only one born when that happened. My other kids know little about it. So I think, yes, we can be innocents again.
Take care
Mark, I have been noting on Facebook today the status updates of my children's friends, most of them no longer in the city but across the country in different colleges. They all have 9/11 status updates, but only the ones who were in New York that day. I think it's impossible to forget. But the other thing we should not forget is that on that day, neighbor treated neighbor with nothing but compassion and love. It was the worst and the best of New York, all at once.
DeleteI am glad this does not live in your children's consciousness. And I'm looking for that back to school post one of these good days! :) Hugs.
I wonder sometimes if there aren't levels of innocence? Certain forms that belong to the different ages and stages of our lives. I remember that morning, having to conduct a conference in a building on the edge of Lake Pontchartrain and eventually being sent away when the building's management decided we could be in danger since the building was in the path that led to and from the Louis Armstrong Airport. No one knew where the next attack might happen. Suddenly, there was no solid ground beneath my feet. I felt unsafe. I lost that innocence then. I never dreamed I could lose it again, but I did four years later when Katrina struck the Gulf Coast. We are fragile. Our world is fragile. All we have to cling to are those old standbys, faith, hope, and love.
ReplyDeleteGlenn, levels of innocence, yes. And of sadness. And of empathy and love. Thank you for this thoughtful comment. When you talk about Katrina, I realize how it is personal to you in a way it can never be for me, because I didn't live it. Perhaps it is the same with 9/11 to a degree. Perhaps. xo
DeleteEvery death brings back every death...
ReplyDeleteIt is only right and fitting to be grieving today. I'll be thinking of you today, Angella. I'll be keeping you in my heart.
Dear Mary Moon, thank you. :)
DeleteI knew that I'd find wise words here on this day. You are in my thoughts and always in my heart, Sister Lister. You ask the hard questions.
ReplyDeletedear Kimberly, i wrote more in previous years. this year, i am hollowed out from missing my children and don't have much heart to dissect what else i am feeling. love.
DeleteLast night I watched several shows honoring those who saved lives that day. I cried a lot. I thought of how much we have changed, how innocent we were before that day. We are fragile, but resilient.
ReplyDeleteHugs to you on this day.
Mel, we are resilient. I don't know why but I am drawn to those documentaries that recollect that day. I watch them obsessively this time of year, as if i can make it come out differently. i think my son wants to be a firefighter today because of 9/11, because he wants to make it come out differently. Hugs back.
DeleteI was thinking of both 9/11 and Katrina today because I had a granddaughter and her mother and that side of her family there and that is personal to me because of that. I didn't have anybody in NYC but I still remember where I was and what I was doing and the fear when I hear the Pentagon was hit. And I remember the day and where I was when I heard my son-in-law had been shot to death by the police in Detroit. There are so many bad, horrible days I remember. I wonder if there are good days that I remember in such detail.
ReplyDeleteDear Kristin, how horrible about your son in law. Such heartbreak you live with. I suppose that tragedy is always personal, causing one to travel deep inside oneself, and joy somehow feels more outward. xo
Deletemy son had just left NYC to start graduate school, in new haven. i was in massachusetts. we talked early that morning--unusual for him, a late sleeper--but he was keyed up and anxious about grad school. i hung up the phone and 15 minutes later the first plane hit. the only way i kept my sanity that day was the fact that i knew exactly where he was. and with extraordinary luck, i reached his dad by cell phone in NY within minutes. i feel guilty for personalizing this so much; but there you go...
ReplyDeletethat hollow feeling, angella. so much empathy for you, dear...
Susan t, i remember my mother kept calling me from st lucia, where she was at the time, frantic that I had somehow been near the world trade center that morning. i was on the phone with her when the first tower fell, and i will never forget the disbelief when the smoke cleared and there was just blue sky where seconds before a tower of steel and glass and concrete had been. we cannot help but personalize such events. it is the only way we are able to process them, i think. hugs.
DeleteI remember talking with a stunned friend of mine in NYC right after the attacks, and that was the one thing he kept saying over and over: "It was SUCH a beautiful day..."
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