Friday, September 9, 2011

Always Remember

Can you believe Sunday marks the tenth anniversary of 9/11?

Me either. 

Recently I took part in a discussion where a friend mentioned she hated that they referred to it as an anniversary.  In her opinion this was the wrong word.  An anniversary is something you want to remember.  Something to celebrate.  Something to find joy in.

I don't know.

I didn't have an answer for her at that moment.  In retrospect I guess my silence was my answer.


The morning of September 11, 2001 I had a dental appointment and got to work late.  When I arrived at the office the first tower had just been hit.  I heard it on my car radio as I pulled into the parking lot.  I remember thinking it must have been a joke.  The guys on this particular radio station liked to pull practical jokes and while it wasn't in good taste, I still assumed that's all it was.

It wasn't.

I remember going in and the silence that greeted me.  Everyone had gathered around the desk of one of the girls in the back because she was a news junkie and had it steaming to her computer when the announcement was first made.

My boss had not arrived yet that morning.  He was scheduled for an outpatient procedure and when I got  his wife on the phone she insisted we close the office and come to their home to watch the TV coverage. 

I can remember the quiet of her house as we all sat around the TV and witnessed the first and then the second tower collapse.  The gross magnitude of what we were bearing witness to was not truly comprehensible to any of us.

Around two that afternoon I finally decided to head home.  No business had been conducted that day.  In fact I think it is safe to say no work was done that day across the world.  All I wanted to do was go home and hug my husband. 

I remember getting home and waking up the Captain.  He had been working nights and hadn't gotten to bed until about 7:00 that morning.  Luckily we had turned off his cell phone and unplugged the house phone so he wouldn't be disturbed.  When he heard the news he was dumbfounded.  We parked ourselves in front of the TV and watched the coverage into the wee hours of the morning praying that survivors would be found.  Praying for the families of the lost.  Praying for peace.

Of course we stayed close to each other because we needed to ensure the other was safe and sound.  Tragedy has a way of making you realize what you have and appreciating it a little more.  As we snuggled together in bed that night I remember him whispering to me, "I went to sleep this morning and all was right in the world, when I woke there was only terror and I didn't even know it until I turned on the TV."

September 11 of this year marks the 10th anniversary of that horrific day.  It falls on a Sunday.  I find a little bit of peace in that.  I think that's the Catholic in me.  We plan to spend the morning on the water communing with the fish.  There is peace in that for us.  Remembering, talking and getting a little lost in thought.  I  hope everyone takes a moment to reflect and remember.




4 comments:

Linda G. said...

Sounds like a good way to commemorate the date to me. May you find some peace on the water. :)

Patty Blount said...

What a beautiful post, Kelly.

Yesterday, my company's CEO sent out a link to a corporate bulletin board where employees could post their remembrances. There are already over a hundred posts since last night.

I guess we'll always be united in our grief.

abby mumford said...

that day was an intense experience and i like how you have planned to remember it.

i'll be driving from philly to boston, so i too will have some quiet time to reflect upon the events and how they've reshaped america.

Hallie Sawyer said...

I can't believe it has been ten years. I was driving into work and the reports were that a small plane hit the towers. By the time I reached my desk, the seriousness of the situation was eerie to say the least. I remember feeling like I was watching a movie. Surely this wasn't really happening.

Changed my life, all of our lives, forever.