Sept 11th

I really don’t like this day. Even though 5 years have passed, it was still too short a time ago. It would be nice to erase Sept 11th off my calendar and start fresh with Sept 12th.
On Sept. 11th 2001 I was married for almost 1 year. I was home that day because my new job wasn’t going to start for a few more days, so I took advantage of the sleeping in (no kids yet to wake me at unholy hours), and drinking piping hot coffee, my favorite beverage.
I had just sat down to watch my fav morning show, the Today Show, and I wasn’t really listening to Katie Curic and Matt Lauer because my coffee hadn’t kicked in yet. But I was brought to attention when Katie said, Oh we interuppt this, blah, blah, blah, special report, and accident at the Twin Towers, blah, blah. They shot over to the towers, and I wasn’t sure what I was looking at (coffee wasn’t working yet). A big, no HUGE, hole in the side of the building. What? What happened? They said a plane went thru it, and I thought for sure the poor pilots died by some gas leak in the plane, and that’s why they crashed. Then they said it may have been intentional, but I wouldn’t believe them.
I called my parents right away because they live nearby. They were watching TV, too, and my mother was telling me that it was terrorists. No, Ma, it wasn’t terrorists, I said. I rolled my eyes. To know my mother is to know that she always jumps to the worst conclusion first. She’s also extraordinarily superstitious, and spiritual, which sounds like an oxymoron. She’s also extremely frightened by the Gypsys who roamed through her town while she was growing up (not in the US).
While I was arguing with her we both saw it at the same time. A second plane. No way was it going to create disaster, I said. It’s going to do the same thing! She said. SHIT! she was right. We watched, completely helpless, as the second plane hit the second tower, and more people perished right before our eyes. In our city. How did this happen? Did we miss something?
The next few hours I remember that I was on the phone trying to get a hold of all my aunts, uncles, and cousins who worked in Manhattan. My cousin Enzo worked in the Financial district that was destroyed. He was lucky though. That very day he was assigned to the Long Island office, and was safe. Everyone in my family was spared. Some of them had to walk across the Brooklyn Bridge on foot inhaling all that smoke and death. What they felt like during those hours I will never know. My parents neighbor wasn’t so lucky. He was my youngest sisters soccer coach for years. He was in the towers and died there. He was a widower who lost his wife just a few years before leaving him a single father to 2 little girls. They went to live with their uncle in the midwest. Orphans. I think of them sometimes and wonder how they are doing.
That night I found it impossible to sleep. I kept seeing the tower collapse into an enormous plume of smoke. Over and over. I kept getting up in the middle of the night to wash my face. I even tried sleeping in the spare bedroom. Nothing worked. I thought of my sister who was going to have a baby soon. What was going through her mind? Was she scared to have a baby in this new world?
The whole day replays in my mind each time Sept. 11th comes. That’s why I don’t like it. I’ll try to keep my mind off it. I’ll keep the TV off, and I’ll take my kids to mall to buy new shoes. I’ll play with them, and make dinner. Tomorrow will be Sept.12th. I can’t wait.

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