Remembering 9/11

What I remember about the Kennedy assassination was that people cried. I also remember that there was nothing on television but the news. I could not watch Romper Room. For 3 straight days I was unable to watch Miss Joan look into her magic mirror and announce my name.

When Martin Luther King was assassinated no one had school the next day. I knew school was cancelled before everyone else. My father was involved in the decision making for the school district.

When John Lennon was killed I was on the phone with a guy friend from college. Neither of us were big John Lennon fans but we were still incredulous. There would never be a Beatles reunion.

On the morning of September 11, 2001 I was at the computer creating an invitation for a PTA-Administration dinner. And the phone rang—it was Elaine. She said are you watching the news? Together we watched the towers fall. I never finished creating those invitations. We cancelled the dinner.

My family was safe. Although my brother-in- law Jack worked downtown and witnessed the raging fires, he walked across the Brooklyn bridge to safety. But many others from town were not spared that day.

I went to 2 funerals. One was Briana’s lacrosse coach. The other was for the brother of my friend Rich. Rich’s brother worked for Cantor-Fitzgerald. There were no coffins at either funeral.

The day I left Puerto Rico I spoke with the matron who cleaned the spa. She told me she witnessed the plane hit tower two. She had worked 2 blocks away. She saw people jumping. She smelled smells and heard sounds that still haunt her. After 25 years of living in New York she returned to Puerto Rico. The memories were too painful.

It is a Chinese tradition to give an envelope containing a piece of candy and a coin to each person at the end of a funeral. Candy is given so that everyone can remember the sweet—and not the bitter. One is to leave the funeral with a pleasing taste in one’s mouth. One is to remember that life is good.  And the coin is intended for purchasing more candy on the way home. The coin represents everlasting life and enduring happiness.

It is ten years since 9/11. I remember that the day after my father was buried I still had to bring my girls to CCD and host piano lessons. Time stops for no one. But it doesn’t mean we forget or pine for what could have been. We just walk alongside our sorrows---neither letting our heartache get too far behind or too far ahead of us.