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geminigirlI didn't want to write about last September today, but too many people have asked me how I'm doing to not write anything.
I called my Dad this morning. He said he was doing fine. There are red white and blue balloons at the entrance to my apartment complex. There are new flags. I'm inadvertently dressed in red, white and blue. (I put blue jeans and a white shirt on to go to work, and to teach at the JDC tonight. I realized later that the undies I'd grabbed were bright red.)
I remember the weather, warm and muggy, not unlike many September days here. Today is a clear day, not unlike last year-perhaps a bit less humid.
I was on the couch, reading, waiting for a phone call, Michael came racing down the stairs, "Put CNN on, What channel is CNN?" Aaron Brown was on the TV. I called my mother, not sure if she had heard-things were happening at around the time she was usually on her way to work. She wasn't in her office. I called the graduate secretary, who has the office next door, to ask where my mother was. "Home, trying to find out if your Dad is okay." I called my mother at home. And I waited.
I remember the screaming.
As I watched the television, sitting on the living room floor, I couldn't do anything but scream when the Towers fell. My Dad was still missing at the time...it would still be several more hours before we knew he was okay. And that's how the cat got her name. She got in the way and I was yelling at her..."We should have just called you Oblivion." Cats, with their incredible ability to sleep through things usually do get up and wonder what's going on when their humans are three feet away in hysterics. Not my cat.
Scream. That was all I could do. I was away from my family, my Dad was missing, and I was stuck in DC, because even if I'd gotten in the car and headed to New York, the bridges and tunnels were closed. As I watched the buildings fall, in my own fear and sadness, my thoughts were with my mother. And I wondered, (because I was convinced my Dad was dead) would I be strong enough to help her through...should I move back to New York to be with her, how would she be able to manage on her own?
And then the phone calls and e-mails, from friends around the country..."Are you okay?"
For three days I was in a daze. Early on the morning of the twelfth, the electricity went out...and it scared me. Through my head flashed questions about what was going on, was this related? I got used to the planes flying over the house-not a normal thing in Washington DC. Wednesday night,![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
aquariumgirl and I went to dinner, with siva_dc at a Lebanese place in Georgetown, and for ice cream at Thomas Sweets. I stared out the window, thought of my friend Kevin (who was still unaccounted for at the moment, but as his job was with the mayor's office of emergency management in NYC, that was unsurprising) thought of my Dad, and was sort of distracted. Thursday night, I drove out to Annandale, down 395, past the Pentagon. It was late-already dark when I passed by, and yet it was all lit up, at a time when it would usually be dark. I thought of the people I knew who were firefighters and rescue workers here in Virginia.
I felt better on Friday...because after watching news coverage nearly non stop for the preceeding days, I saw a commercial for the first time. Who would think that one would be grateful to see advertising?
It's a year later. I'm sitting at work, doing battle with some statistics. My Dad is okay...it hasn't been an easy year for him, he's lost his job in another round of tech industry cuts, he's having knee replacement in a few weeks. I've spent more time with my family, recently. They were important before, but they're important in a different way than before. My Mom seems to have mostly recovered from whatever she was ill with last year. It's not been the easiest year, but I'm still here, I'm still kicking.
I've always found September a better time for reflection and resolution than December. Maybe it's that so much of my life has been dictated by the school year, and September is the beginning of that. Maybe it's the High Holidays, the story about inscription in the Book of Life at Yom Kippur that does it. Why isn't important. It just is.
My thoughts go out to everyone who lost someone. And to everyone who didn't but who came close, who lived through the agonizing hours of not knowing, only to breathe relief when they got the call, and who sit and wonder sometimes, "Why me? Why was my family lucky and not someone else?"
Have we learned much from this experience? Are we closer and stronger as communities? Are we scared of our neighbors? Who are we now that we weren't a year ago?
I'm going to take today, and remember how lucky I am to have what I do, and who I do in my life.
I called my Dad this morning. He said he was doing fine. There are red white and blue balloons at the entrance to my apartment complex. There are new flags. I'm inadvertently dressed in red, white and blue. (I put blue jeans and a white shirt on to go to work, and to teach at the JDC tonight. I realized later that the undies I'd grabbed were bright red.)
I remember the weather, warm and muggy, not unlike many September days here. Today is a clear day, not unlike last year-perhaps a bit less humid.
I was on the couch, reading, waiting for a phone call, Michael came racing down the stairs, "Put CNN on, What channel is CNN?" Aaron Brown was on the TV. I called my mother, not sure if she had heard-things were happening at around the time she was usually on her way to work. She wasn't in her office. I called the graduate secretary, who has the office next door, to ask where my mother was. "Home, trying to find out if your Dad is okay." I called my mother at home. And I waited.
I remember the screaming.
As I watched the television, sitting on the living room floor, I couldn't do anything but scream when the Towers fell. My Dad was still missing at the time...it would still be several more hours before we knew he was okay. And that's how the cat got her name. She got in the way and I was yelling at her..."We should have just called you Oblivion." Cats, with their incredible ability to sleep through things usually do get up and wonder what's going on when their humans are three feet away in hysterics. Not my cat.
Scream. That was all I could do. I was away from my family, my Dad was missing, and I was stuck in DC, because even if I'd gotten in the car and headed to New York, the bridges and tunnels were closed. As I watched the buildings fall, in my own fear and sadness, my thoughts were with my mother. And I wondered, (because I was convinced my Dad was dead) would I be strong enough to help her through...should I move back to New York to be with her, how would she be able to manage on her own?
And then the phone calls and e-mails, from friends around the country..."Are you okay?"
For three days I was in a daze. Early on the morning of the twelfth, the electricity went out...and it scared me. Through my head flashed questions about what was going on, was this related? I got used to the planes flying over the house-not a normal thing in Washington DC. Wednesday night,
aquariumgirl and I went to dinner, with siva_dc at a Lebanese place in Georgetown, and for ice cream at Thomas Sweets. I stared out the window, thought of my friend Kevin (who was still unaccounted for at the moment, but as his job was with the mayor's office of emergency management in NYC, that was unsurprising) thought of my Dad, and was sort of distracted. Thursday night, I drove out to Annandale, down 395, past the Pentagon. It was late-already dark when I passed by, and yet it was all lit up, at a time when it would usually be dark. I thought of the people I knew who were firefighters and rescue workers here in Virginia. I felt better on Friday...because after watching news coverage nearly non stop for the preceeding days, I saw a commercial for the first time. Who would think that one would be grateful to see advertising?
It's a year later. I'm sitting at work, doing battle with some statistics. My Dad is okay...it hasn't been an easy year for him, he's lost his job in another round of tech industry cuts, he's having knee replacement in a few weeks. I've spent more time with my family, recently. They were important before, but they're important in a different way than before. My Mom seems to have mostly recovered from whatever she was ill with last year. It's not been the easiest year, but I'm still here, I'm still kicking.
I've always found September a better time for reflection and resolution than December. Maybe it's that so much of my life has been dictated by the school year, and September is the beginning of that. Maybe it's the High Holidays, the story about inscription in the Book of Life at Yom Kippur that does it. Why isn't important. It just is.
My thoughts go out to everyone who lost someone. And to everyone who didn't but who came close, who lived through the agonizing hours of not knowing, only to breathe relief when they got the call, and who sit and wonder sometimes, "Why me? Why was my family lucky and not someone else?"
Have we learned much from this experience? Are we closer and stronger as communities? Are we scared of our neighbors? Who are we now that we weren't a year ago?
I'm going to take today, and remember how lucky I am to have what I do, and who I do in my life.
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no subject
Date: 2002-09-11 04:56 pm (UTC)*Hugs*
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Date: 2002-09-11 10:02 pm (UTC)Your account of the day is compelling and enthralling, hon. And there aren't words for how it affected me.
Thank you for posting it.
no subject
Date: 2002-09-12 07:01 am (UTC)