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...Is My Friend Gail's Birthday
That's how I like to think of September 11th, but I can't help thinking of it in more macabre terms, being far from where we typically live -- about 12 miles away from Manhattan. Pat told me that she saw on TV that it's raining in New York City today.
"Good," I said, "that it's not a picture-perfect day, like it was six years ago."
Pat continued, "During the news, they interviewed some Americans, who were saying, 'People from other countries just don't understand how difficult this day is for us,' and I thought, 'No, they're thinking, now you know how we feel -- we, who've had terrorism in our countries for years.'"
At work earlier, I thought: Yes, I'll tell my whole story, if anyone asks, "Were you in New York City on September 11th?" In fact, I was working there that day, but at the IBM building at 57th and Madison Ave., rather than downtown; yet, I tasted a bit of the day's nightmare.
No one asked. No one even seemed even to notice the date. I guess Pat had a point! Or maybe they were being polite and not bringing it up?
Survivor's Rut
I remember when our neighbor fell through a glass door and cut his face this past Spring. When I saw him, I did not ask him to recount how it happened, as I knew that he'd have to re-live it in order to narrate it. That seemed too cruel. My insight came because I had that re-living sensation after a car accident during an ice storm this past April; so many concerned people asked me to detail it for them. I could have gotten past it more quickly, if I hadn't had to keep narrating it.
Same thing with September 11th. If anyone in India had asked for my story, I'd have offered it, but it would have taken a toll.
And I think of a colleague here, who's also on assignment for another company, for whom that bridge in Minnesota that fell several weeks ago was part of her daily commute; if she hadn't been here, and had been on that bridge instead that day....
Life is Good While It Lasts
Leaving dinner at the clubhouse tonight with Pat, I thought about a different loss that we transformed into opportunities for other adventures. More than the anniversary of September 11th, by dessert, I was thinking about it being the four-year anniversary of my deciding to stop trying to become pregnant; by the time I was 38, I had tried IUI via an anonymous donor nine times over 1.5 years.
God had other plans. Finally, on Rosh Hashanah four years ago, I faced that I wanted to stop trying. If we had had a child, I do not believe we'd have had the wherewithal for me to take this assignment, and for Pat to accompany me.
Speaking of Rosh Hashanah, it's time to pack for our trip tomorrow.
Please God, let 5768 be a year of good health for our loved ones and us. Amen.
8 comments:
Best wishes from Shayna and myself for the new year for you and Pat. Some news: Shayna and I were married two weeks ago. Cloud 9. We'll miss you in shul.
Much love,
Jill
Hi Sarah and Pat, Happy New Year! We miss you both a lot and think of you very often, even when we're not reading Sarah's blog or looking at Pat's photos.
Dear Sarah and Pat,
L'Shanah Tovah U'M'tukah. Amen to good health for all.
9/10 was the quintessential New York morning for me. I went down to our building's laundry room before work yesterday morning, to avoid the evening crowd, and stepped on a dead mouse. When I walked to the bus stop, the inimical, inimitable reek of redolent detritus baking in the damp heat outside of the fish market brought an ironic smile to my face as I stepped lightly over the puddle of puke at the curb and thought, "Only in New York." Then I shook my head again at wonder about how damn much I love living here anyway. I feel married to this city - so passionately in love that I not only overlook flaws, I imbue them with a kind of smug pride, believing myself blessed and superior for being able to see the true nature of my beloved even as others cringe at superficial features of ugliness. Maybe others see a filthy, wounded, dreary face, but I see through to the brilliance within.
9/11 is a tough day here in New York. I couldn't bear to turn on the news. Every article I read had me in tears.
My heart shattered for the city and my son six years ago. Our entire neighborhood fire engine Company One perished in the buildings, to the man, because they were first responders right over the bridge. I learned about the attack, not from the news, but from one of my teachers, who happened to see the first plane rip into the first building. We gagged on the smoke and had to close the windows on that very hot day. My students watched the towers fall from the school windows. I still need to tell the story, over and over again. I resent the people who say we should move on and get over this. How dare I get over the loss of six of Zach's schoolmates' parents, the loss of my son's sense of security, my grief that we live in a world where fanatics grab money and power at the mercy of innocents? The horror, the fear, the trauma will always live in my cells. It's not that I can't experience joy as a result, it's that it's all the sweeter for its contrast.
I wonder if people were being polite or oblivious. Noone at work mentioned the significance of the day here, either. Rather than feeling relieved, that left me feeling empty and raw. If I didn't feel so conspicuous for being the only one taking off two days from work for the New Year - one of my Jewish colleagues isn't taking even one day off and the other is only taking one off - I'd have taken today off for my own private memorial. I have hated working on 9/11. I never thought of this, but next year I will burn two Yahrzeit candles starting on the evening of the 10th. I will never "get over" it, I will offer prayers of remembrance and peace every year that I am blessed to continue living.
Love,
Kathy
PS, I loved "Hafanana." I can't get it out of my head. Cracks me up. Did you see what was probably the original by Afric? Really amazing. Thanks for sharing the link. How did I miss it when it first came out? It certainly offers a good counterpoint to this day - total frivolous froth...
Jill, mazel tov to you and Shayna! What an electric couple!
David & Gerard, we miss you, too. Pat was talking about David during a walk earlier, wondering what he could tell us about what's to see in Mumbai.
Kath, your valentine to NY made sense to me -- knowing you -- even as we need to live in a suburb wherever we go, and only visit the very-near city, whichever it is.
I can also imagine that your lifelong love of New York was made even stronger by the trial that your family, you and the city lived through during the September 11th era...which I guess, on some level, you're right, it will always be.
I'm glad you were able to escape via "Hafanana." I googled it after posting about it, as I was so captivated by its catchiness, and that's when I learned that it was actually a cover of an Afric Simone song. Even better. That's world music at its best -- an African song covered by an Arabic pop group.
I thought that the group singing Hafanana (the title of which, by the way made me think immediately of Hava Nagilah) was Slovakian, but that the song was picked up by an Arabic music publisher and sent to India to be bought by an American Jew.
You're right. It turns out that Maduar's Slovakian. I like the tune better than "Hava Nagila."
Fun how it found its way into my ears.
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