Grief: Ten Years Later.

This has been a post that I've been thinking about all week. I listen to a lot of NPR, and they've had a fair amount of people sharing their stories about 9/11. I decided that I would share my story.

On Sept. 11, 2001, I was in middle school. My mom woke me up that morning with tears on her face. I will never forget it: my mom, who is one of the people best equipped to explain tragedies, could not explain why she was crying to me. She just told me to come out to the living room. I was convinced that one of my grandparents had passed away. My father was in there, watching the TV with a look of complete shock and horror. He grew up in NYC. My sister and I sat there in a stunned, teary silence while my mother was whispering prayers and shocked comments.

I don't remember how I got to school that day. As we have family in NY, I was petrified that they were hurt or killed, despite my mother's reassurances that they were far away from the Twin Towers and wouldn't have been in that area. I remember not being able to speak to my friends and teachers. The school was chaos---we only listened to the radio for more news on the horrible events that were quickly unfolding. Everyone quickly learned that the drama teacher's husband was supposed to be flying that day and we all heard whispers that she'd freaked out and gone home until she received a call from him. (She did. He came home a few days late, but we were all glad to hear that he was fine.) I got home that day and we received a call from my aunt and uncle.

My uncle's brother was part of NYFD. He'd had a stroke a few years earlier so he was no longer on duty, but we all knew how he went to funeral after funeral---unable to speak about the men that he had known so well. Ever since that day, he's struggled with depression.


I will always remember that day. One memory that continued to follow me that day was when I visited the Twin Towers approximately 4 years earlier was how my sister and I were looking out of the windows, counting the taxis that looked like little yellow bugs. I have a fear of heights, and I kept scooting back against the wall after finishing counting taxis. I kept wondering what I would have done if I was in one of those towers.

I am not a religious person, but I am taking this day to remember. My heart goes out to all of the families affected by this tragedy: ones who lost families and families who have dealt with the blatant racism that arose from this tragedy. The families that lost members due to the war. To each and every person affected by this tragedy.

We remember.