This is pretty much just an impromptu post that I felt like I should write about because it’s weighing heavy on my mind this morning, actually when I really stop to think about it, it weighs hard on my mind every year on this very day.
As I sit here in my desk at work writing this post, I can’t help but get teary-eyed recalling the events of that day.
I was about 6, in the first grade, and my brother was 10 in the 5th grade. I remember that day being extremely gloomy. It was cloudy out, almost as if Mother Nature knew and was trying to give us some sort of sign about what was going to happen that day. My mom was off from work, and took my brother and I to school like normal, at around 7:15-7:30. Within the hour, I think everyone (students-wise) started to realize something was going on and very wrong, because parents started coming to pick up their kids every few minutes. I remember at about 9 a.m., my parents came. I still didn’t know what was going on, but hey my parents were picking me up super early from school, so what did I care? “No classes or homework for me today!,” I thought.
I remember coming out of the school and I saw my dad standing a few feet away at the corner looking at something in the distance. I ran to him to say hi, he hugged me and I looked where he was looking at. He showed me in the distance what he was looking at, but to me all I saw was a bunch of really dark smoke in the air. He didn’t say much to me about it, I guess because 1. He didn’t want to scare me, and 2. He probably thought I was too young to understand what was going on anyway.
Nonetheless, I was ready to go home and for some reason we were still waiting in front of the school for something, so I asked him “where did mom go?”, “She went to get Lynae and Justin,” he said. Now I KNEW something was off because they never picked up other peoples’ kids, but we were all friends, so hey cool, no school and we were having friends over!!
The rest of the day was kind of a blur, I just remember us going back to my house afterwards, and watching the news of everything that was going on in Manhattan.
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With every year that goes by, I think about it more and more and begin to think/realize how lucky and grateful I am that my mom wasn’t working that day. I don’t even remember why she had off or taken off that day, on a Tuesday of all days, but if she didn’t, lord knows what could’ve happened….
As grateful as I am of that, I can’t help but also feel an immense amount of sadness, because many people were not as lucky as I was. So many people, kids, babies, etc., lost mothers, fathers, uncles, aunts, and/or all of the above, it’s insane and heartbreaking to think about.
How can people just wake up one morning and decide they’re going to terrorize an entire city, kill thousands upon thousands of innocent people in the process and not think twice about it?
It’s been 16 years since this happened, and it still feels like just yesterday to most people, including myself. I think the older I get now, the more intense it is to think about and the deeper the sadness is to feel, because you understand everything about it so much more. And the memories of it all becomes much more vivid. I find this day seems to affect me more with each year that passes, which I guess is odd since it didn’t actually directly hurt me or my family in any way, but I guess just thinking about how horrific that day was for all of New York, and how much it still affects people to this very day is what gets me.
I also think it puts everything else into perspective for people, including myself again; to not only think about all of the innocent lives lost through this tragedy, but those people who SACRIFICED their lives to attempt to help this dire situation in any possible way they could; the firemen, policemen, EMTs, etc., the list could truly go on and on. As cliche as it may be/sound, we need to learn to be grateful for every single person in our lives because you really don’t know when it’ll be the last time you’ll see them; there’s no….I don’t want to say better, because what happened is in no way, shape, or form good, but for lack of a better word, I’ll say greater….there is no greater example of that then what happened on September 11, 2001. These poor people were just going about their everyday lives and routines, going to work, etc., and this happened, ignorant, selfish people took it upon themselves to take their beautiful lives away over spite for something these people had absolutely no control over.
It almost feels wrong and selfish to attempt to go through this day and be happy, while so many people around the world are still suffering from this day, and I think that’s why I always feel down about it. It’s almost as if I have no right to be so happy and cheerful, and that’s why my depression gets the best of me on this particular day. I never want or care for going out, going to work, school, etc., doing anything in general really that could make me happy whenever this day comes, because it doesn’t do anything to help what happened.
People say we have to keep fighting everyday to show the rest of the world that that one tragedy did not get the best of us, that in fact it actually brought us closer together and made us stronger; it’s a nice thought, but I just wish I could be doing more to help with it all and make a more positive impact.
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I really had to take a breather from writing this post, because all this morning I was writing, and a lot of my sadness started turning into anger. I really started letting it affect me, in a way that I should not have. It wasn’t until I left for my break, and took a walk for that hour that I realized, not only do I have to appreciate all of the people in my life right now, but I also have to be appreciative of my life, and how beautiful life in general can really be. It’s a beautiful day outside, the sun came up again, I’m living to see another day, I have a home to go to at the end of the day, I have an amazing job, amazing family, amazing boyfriend, and an amazing life (in spite of how I may feel about it sometimes). Many people in the world today are nowhere near as lucky as I am, and I don’t in any way mean that in a conceited way, but it’s just the fact of the matter, a lot of people aren’t as fortunate, unfortunately. So as horrible, as this day may be or feel because of something that happened so long ago, we have to somehow look at the positives in our life today, and really push through one way or another, especially since it would probably be what everyone who lost their lives that day would want from their families and friends.
To all the men and women that sacrificed their lives on this day, 16 years ago, thank you so much. No amount of gratitude I think will ever be enough to be able to compensate for all of your lives that were lost on that day, but at least somehow knowing that each and every one of you were/are appreciated I hope will somehow be a start. And to all the people that so sadly lost their lives to such evil people, I’m so sorry, not one of you deserved that. But I hope and pray that each and every one of your families are somehow managing to do well, and push through with you in their minds with each day that passes.
Gone but NEVER forgotten ❤
-Xoxo Leo Girl