It is the 16th Anniversary of 911. I cried a little this morning looking at my “On This Day” news feed. Every year I struggle with the day.
On that day I had Aunt in-laws in two of the spots: the Towers and the Pentagon. My ex was stuck in an NYPD bus on a bridge and called me on his way into Downtown Manhattan to be put to use. He watched from that vantage point as Tower 2 fell. The sound of his voice, the words “…it was been there my whole life and it’s just…gone.”
Today I will listen to the names as they are called. I will say a little prayer when the bell tolls for the moments when the planes hit. I will shed tears and be horribly sad. I will close my office door for the day because I try to reflect on the magnitude of such an event on regular people, the families, the survivors, the rescue teams, America in general.
I love NYC, from the moment I first stepped foot in it. It was the place that I felt the most like myself and people accepted me for who I am/was. It was the first place in my life that I felt I actually “lived my life”. I do not believe that I fully “matured” until I was there, as if I floated along in life and my roots kinda stuck there. I miss it. Especially today when you can openly grieve and it is understood why. My eyes will be red today and I will have to explain to some kind soul that “nothing happened” or “I am just remembering people from 911”.
I am a different person than I was then, in a multitude of ways. But who I am today is a direct result of the time I spent there.
My heart aches today. I will try to be nice to a random person, say a kind word to a stranger and smile at someone who seems unable to do the same.
Love is greater than hate.