These last couple of weeks of summer have been such a whirlwind of events. I thought my return to the blogging would be something totally different but that is not how this works when you follow the Holy Spirit. We will get into the rest of the hot button topics in the weeks to come and thank you for rocking out with me! I hope that you have enjoyed your time off and found a way to rest and restore!
I try not to talk about 9/11. About September 2nd or 3rd, the news starts to saturate us with the images and stories and that fateful day and every time it brings anxiety to those who have lived through it. For varying reasons, that day is seared in our minds and history and will be cemented there with the phrase, “Never Forget”. As if we could. Not that we want to.
I may be alone in my way of thinking but it is hard to “forget” when it is literally re-hashed for a week moment by moment every year. For the last 20 years. When does the healing process begin or is that meant to help heal?
On that Tuesday morning, I had my then, 4-year-old daughter with me. I had taken off the morning from work to go to the social security office and get documentation for her to begin kindergarten. We were standing in line when the first plane hit. I looked out the window and saw the plane in the side of the building and felt immediate dread. My beloved sister worked in one of those two buildings.
My sister was as predictable as a timepiece. There was no doubt in my mind she was already at her desk hard at work. Since the buildings were called the “twin towers” the key was trying to figure out which tower she occupied. I knew she worked at a high floor so the dread hung on me like a cape.
I ran out of the building and tried immediately to make several phone calls. At this time the cell towers were starting to go haywire in some areas. I raced to my mother’s house just in enough time for the second tower to get hit. I immediately lost my head. I became hysterical and my best friend calmed me down by telling me not to worry, if anything, my sister got out because she scaled down the building like spiderman.
That was not exactly how she did it but my friend had a point. If anyone was going to get out, it would be my sister and I’m GRATEFUL to say she survived. Not without emotional scars and physical challenges however she lives to tell her story and that is the best outcome.
Every time we get to this point in the year, I worry about her. I worry about her and those like her who have survived. The ones who walked away from the carnage with those memories impressed in their minds forever and are forced to relive every year.
I think about people like myself. People who were “supposed” to be in the city but made a last-minute detour and decided to do something else. I know I couldn’t have survived the day. Not the actual attack, but the aftermath of having no way home, no subways or buses. I lived in New Jersey and worked in Midtown. There was no way in or out. My boyfriend at the time (now my husband) told me he would have carried me from midtown to the Bronx. I believe him and know he would have. I’m just really glad he didn’t have too.
That day changed all of our lives. Those who lost loved ones deserve to hear their names called out each and every year. They didn’t ask for this. Our first responders are amazing individuals who put the lives of others ahead of their own and in the process lost theirs, their limbs or are suffering with illnesses.
I salute all our heroes and survivors who are just trying to make it through another day! Whatever side of the coin you land on, if this is too much or not enough, my prayers and thoughts are with you. Thank you for being everyday heroes to many. You didn’t ask for this and you are brave, resilient and worthy!
Reach out and check on someone today!
I look forward to catching up with you next week!
Love you all to life,
Sonji
