Looking Back...Again

Today is September 11th.  I've talked about this day a few times here previously, though not for a while other than briefly mentioning it last year because I was physically on a plane on September 11th at the same time of day as the everything happened that day.  Previously I had documented my experience of the original day here, and two years after that post I discussed our early attempts of telling Jacob a little bit about it.  Today marks 18 years since that fateful day, and for some reason it's really bothering me today.  It does every year, I guess, but it's really been on my mind a lot for some reason, to the point of significantly distracting me at work this morning.  I'm not sure why today, of all years, but I have a few theories:

1. We've had so many years to reflect on it, and it's becoming ever-clearer how pivotal that day was, in so many ways.  From our national sense of security, to patriotism, to racism against Muslims, to the hoops we jump through in the airport security line, it changed America as a whole.  And in many ways, I feel like it planted a lot of seeds for the divisions that separate us now, including the extreme division among political parties that seemed to escalate first when Democrats began to turn on George Bush after we went back into the Middle East, and then later when Republicans were angered over Barack Obama seemingly defending Muslims.  I wondered the other day how our world might be different had Saddam Hussein and Osama Bin Laden never been eliminated.  Would we have ended up in this exact same place, or would we have yet another tragedy like this one to mourn?  Sadly, for all of those who lost their lives or loved ones in the process of eliminating those threats, the price seems high.  But maybe that changed history yet again and saved other lives.  Either way, all these years later, it feels like we should have some perspective on whether the road we took was the right one, but it's all so convoluted now that it's hard to tell.
   


2. We're now getting so far out from when it happened that there are 18 years' worth of kids who were not alive for it.  Colleges and universities are fully stocked with young adults who have no memory of the day, so perhaps it's starting to feel like it's our job to educate them and make sure the world never forgets.  I'm sure it's the same feeling our grandparents had about wanting us to understand Pearl Harbor.  But let's face it--it's one thing to have an educated understanding of what happened, and another to have lived it and know precisely how everything changed in that moment.  We were talking about it with Jacob the other day, trying to explain how helpless and chaotic everything felt.  It's not something he'll ever truly understand, but we'll sure try to help both kids grasp how the world changed, in an age-appropriate manner as they're old enough to hear about all that happened that day.  So, as I see so many people sharing images, articles, and memories today, I can't help but wonder if it's with a bit of desperation to make sure history documents how unfathomable that day actually was, before we all die off or lose sight of its importance.


3. In the last couple years there have been a lot of stories about all of the sicknesses that have continued to plague those who helped at Ground Zero in the days after the attacks.  It's been news for a while, but the stories continue to pop up, and with every passing year, the death toll climbs.  I've been seeing all the "established" death counts today--from the planes, the buildings, on the ground--but those seem hollow now that we know how many more people have died from related illnesses like lung diseases and cancer.  There are certainly countless more that have lost their lives, their sanity, or their loved ones, directly and indirectly, because of what happened.  I'm sure there are many suicides, drug addictions, or other things that can be directly traced back to that time.  Or what about the people who had to move or change jobs to escape their emotional trauma brought on by that physical place, or because their office building literally no longer existed?  Or the kids who were short a parent growing up?  All of it impacts every moment of their lives moving forward, so there's almost no escape.  In short, the ripple effect is still so clear so many years later, and if it's depressing to me, I can't even imagine the pain for the people who were directly impacted.


4. The night of September 11th, Craig and I--newly dating at the time--were so exhausted by the events of the day that all we could muster was dinner out.  We went to a nearby Ruby Tuesday, which had just opened up the day before.  We spent our meal watching the news coverage on TV, so I'm almost not sure how we even ate.  Well, fast forward 17 years and about 50 weeks later, and that Ruby Tuesday closed for business.  Not surprising, I guess, given that it was the last one in this market.  We haven't even been there in years--maybe only once or twice since Jacob went gluten-free, as there weren't a lot of options for him there.  I will always remember the salad bar, as well as the blizzardy night we went there because it was the closest restaurant to where we lived, and my commute probably exhausted me too much to cook.  I had the most fattening meal ever, but boy, was it ever good.  But my clearest memory from that restaurant will always be my first one, eating there on that horrible day.  And for some reason knowing that restaurant is now closed adds a weird sting to today.  In a similar vein, I happened to see a photo today of the outside of the Brooks Brothers store near Ground Zero that was famously damaged that day.  It's closed, too, and that felt a little sad.  Maybe both closings just serve as reminders that life keeps moving on, even though a part of us will always be frozen in time on that day.


5. Maybe I'm just tired.  It's been three days of getting up extra early to get Jacob to school, and the last two nights' bedtimes haven't been as early as I'd have liked.  I'm managing (blog post to come) but perhaps that extra layer of sleep deprivation is just making everything more emotional.  I learned once I had kids how deeply sleep deprivation impacted everything--my mood, my patience, my appetite--and how the littlest thing became a big thing when I was tired.  And maybe that's part of my struggle today.

No one who was alive that day will ever forget.  Each anniversary brings with it different emotions as life changes around us and we gain new perspectives.  My perspective as a parent is different than it was when it happened, no doubt.  As my anxiety has gotten worse over the past few years, my ability to watch footage has decreased.  The world is scary enough without reliving that day, honestly.  And while we can't change what happened and should never shut it out to the point that we lose sight of its significance, knowing your limits is important, too.  This year I can't really take in too much, but maybe another year I will.  It still makes me desperately sad, though, and this year was an especially tough one.  Eighteen years...and it still doesn't seem possible.  I just pray my kids never have anything like that in their lifetime.  Once in ours was enough.