Monday, September 11, 2006

Fragile: Handle With Care

I can't believe I'm at work today. All I want to do is go home and watch the news channels and old video tapes. I want to look at every picture I can, read every word written about it. I feel like if I could just absorb everything there is to absorb, then maybe it would make some sense. Maybe I could understand what happened to me on September 11th, 2001.

I live in Los Angeles now, a world away from Wall St. and Broadway and Ground Zero. It's all so far away here. How can people understand what 9/11 was here among the palm trees and movie stars? I know that everyone felt horrible and scared when they saw it on television, but does it mean the same thing when you've never eaten lunch by the fountain in the huge courtyard between the towers, if you've never gone up to Window On The Worlds just to see what it feels like to be that high up? I don't know.

I wish I could wear a big sign that says "Handle With Care". I wish I could make people understand how much I still hurt today.

I know I'm lucky. I didn't die on 9/11. Nobody I worked with died. I escaped relatively unhurt. Banged up a bit, smothered in dust and debris, but still not least not on the outside. And that's the thing about it. Since I don't look messed up on the outside, who's to know how much I'm bleeding on the inside? I don't even know. I thought I was doing pretty well, actually. This year has been really tough, though. I guess I thought I was more healed than I am. It still feels so raw. To me 9/11 was yesterday...and it was a hundred years ago.

And I really miss being a part of New York City. I miss riding the subway and walking through the Upper West Side to Central Park. I miss the grit and the realness of life there. I miss the people. It's like missing a lover or a dear friend. It's a physical feeling. But I lived in NYC from 1995 to 2002. My New York is mostly a pre-9/11 New York. My memories are from a city that doesn't really exist anymore and maybe that's why I grieve so deeply.

I wrote about that day at the September 11 Digital Archive. You can read it here if you want to. I don't think I'm up for writing about it all over again today...although I probably should.


The Lone Beader said...

Thanks you for sharing your 9/11 story. It brought tears to my eyes.

On 9/10/01, I was working at the FleetCenter (now the Boston Garden). When I woke up on the morning of 9/11, the sun was shining and the birds were chirping. Other than that, my neighborhood was quiet, and for some reason I didn't turn on the TV like I usually did...Then, the phone rang...Turned out that the carpenter who was on tour with the show that I worked the night before was on one of the planes. He was going home to see his newborn child...

Anonymous said...

What a moving story. It is so unbearably sad, the innocent lives that were taken and (in your case) held prisoner. I hope that you were able to make it through this day ok. My heart goes out to you. {{Hugs}}

Lora_3 said...

It’s called the “Book Of Pain”. The book holds are thoughts, feelings, actions, and pain. We can’t dismiss it because it would mean dismissing part of our soul. Life creates these books and our souls place them on the bookshelf. We take these books down, relive through them and remember all. Sometimes they sit on the coffee table for a few days.

There is another book on the shelf next to the “Book Of Pain” and it’s call “Lessons Learned”. Don’t ask it the question “Why?” because it doesn’t have that answer. But it does give you a prospective that helps you see through the pain and the fear. It gives you Hope and Faith that your soul can’t live without.

Be well my friend and
Be safe…