And 9/11 has taken on a whole new meaning around here….
9 years ago I was at Liberty, and ran to my dorm to try to get a hold of my family who was living in the Big Apple at the time….
and I couldn’t because the phones were down.
Luckily, my brother J was somehow on AIM…and assured me they were all well…
Except for my Dad, which we couldn’t get a hold of yet.
9 years ago G and I were broken up…but he called to check on me and my family.
We weren’t broken up for much longer.
9 years ago my Dad rocked the house in NYC getting the subways back up and running… way to go Bampy!
But he wasn’t called Bampy then…because there were no babies yet.
9 years ago people sat on airplanes and worried more about turbulence than terrorists…. and you could have your lotion, toothpaste and perfume with you.
9 years later I am married, with 2 kids.
Married to a soldier, who will one day have to leave his (obscenely brilliant and charming) wife and children, in hopes that people can return to worrying about turbulence again.
9 years later I realize my children will have no memories of the Twin Towers, other than the men who destroyed them, and probably some continued bickering over what should be placed in the void where they once stood.
Which is sad.
And people say Never Forget, like it would be possible to forget.
It would be wonderful to forget…. not the people lost, or what happened…but if we were truly able to forget, the terrorists wouldn’t have any power.