Writing - September 11, 2001
Late in the evening on September 11, I felt compelled to write something, anything. I was flat and emotionless because I was so drained by that day's events. My hand felt as heavy as lead as I forced the following words through my pen:
Tuesday, September 11, 2001 11:11 p.m.
The World Trade Towers were destroyed today.
And part of The Pentagon.
And a plane lies wrecked on a field in Pennsylvania.
And Building 7 next to what was the Trade Towers collapsed.
I’m numb, in shock, scared.
Bill Schmiedel watched the first tower burn, then saw the second one explode.
He was a mile and a half away in Jersey City.
And today, I brought Tarah, Chelsea, and Paul home because I was afraid of what would come next.
Chelsea smashed her forehead into the dresser while she and Tarah wrestled upstairs. She got three stitches right in the space of her widow’s peak.
And today I made dinner – white rice from a boil-in-bag, broccoli and velveet, a salad, and some thawed, reheated frozen chicken.
Paul made a Lego model of a tower and a plane and was going to do a re-enactment for Ken and I. We yelled at him; then I apologized – he was only showing us what he’d seen – processing it in his child’s way.
I rubbed the cat’s (Serabi’s) belly today when I went outside. Later, I watched Earl and Toby catch, then toss, a rodent of some sort.
It’s clear tonight – and I can see so very many stars in the sky – but no planes.
Fall is coming. I feel the cool night air on the back of my neck from the window behind me.
Tonight as I watched the stars, I heard the cat rustling the leaves as he climbed the crabapple tree.
I will be 49 tomorrow and I don’t think anything will ever be the same again.
Paul is sleeping in the living room on the floor and he begged me to sleep on the sofa next to him. I will, because although I don’t feel safe nor do I know if I ever will again, but this small thing – sleeping nearby – will make him feel safe.
Photo note: The sky in the photo reminds me of the blue sky that day. The butterfly represents hope.