On September 11, 2001 I was a new mother, my daughter having been born just two months earlier. On that morning I woke before her, turned the television on low so as not to wake my sleeping baby, and watched as the tragedy unfolded. Shock as the first plane hit gave way to confusion when the second plane hit, and very very quickly, absolute horror, fear and sorrow lived in my bones.
How could someone, anyone, for any reason, do this? How would people deal with such painful loss? How would New York recover? How would we all recover?
HOW?
Every year at this time, I am plunged back into the voracity of all those feelings, as I”m sure we all are. Today is the 16th anniversary of the September 11 attacks. And the sorrow still lives in my bones.
That perfect, innocent baby girl that I cried over that morning and worried about protecting from the evil in the world is now 16 years old. Last year, she and I visited the 9/11 Memorial and Museum in New York.
The somber exterior voids of water that greet you are haunting, yet beautiful. But as you move into the museum, and down into the dark chasms of the exhibits, you are thrown into chaos and heartbreak, and the angst is palpable.
The magnitude of the loss is evident in every inch of the space. It was extremely hard to digest.
It’s uncomfortable to remember what happened on September 11th; but remembering is important. Remembering is all that we have.
So today, September 11, 2017, we remember. We remember all of it.
God bless America!
What a horrible day and events! I will never forget!