I am forever grateful that the members of my family who were there on September 11, 2001 made it out okay. Every year, I send them a short email letting them know I'm thinking of them. And I am. But I'm also thinking of the moment I realized my family was there. The moment my insides hollowed out. The moment where my sense of safety and control, where my assumption that everyone and everything would always be okay, was destroyed in a series of small, quiet moments - as I sat at my desk and read the email I initially thought was a joke, as I picked up the phone to call my parents and only got a busy signal, as I finally got through and learned members of my family were among the smoke and the flames and the ruin and we were all waiting, waiting, waiting to hear something...
And for us, it was good news. For so many, many others, it wasn't. This weekend, my thoughts and prayers are with all those who were there and with all those who were touched by September 11, 2001.
And, really, isn't that all of us?
That about sums it up, Madeline. I didn't have any friends or family in NY at the time, but I still felt like I had been attacked as well. It did indeed touch us ALL.
ReplyDeleteThanks for commenting, Arlene. Good to see you here.
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