It’s That Time Again
No, not LIttlebit’s birthday, though that shines brightly on tomorrow’s horizon. No, it’s September 11th again.
For many years after 9/11, I would experience dread leading up to the day it happened. I was in mourning for what had happened and probably had a healthy dash of PTSD on top of it all. Big Daddy was working for United Airlines at the time and when he told me, in his calm, even voice that the airline was “missing planes’ my heart dropped out of my feet. I begged him to come home as he was working on airport grounds and as the planes crashed in New York and Washington and Pennsylvania, I feared they were moving west, towards us and our city and our airport and him.
Big Daddy, the Princess and I spent the day with BIg Daddy’s uncle. His cousin was a marine reservist and we didn’t want Big Daddy’s uncle to be alone, pondering what the next step could have been for his son (oddly enough, the cousin in question was never deployed and managed to successfully exit the military a few years ago after serving his term). We had just moved into our house a scant two weeks before and I was just a month into a new job. I called to determine if I should go into work. I was afriad to be away from Big Daddy and the Princess and it seemed to me like the world had stopped.
The phone calls that day were nearly constant as people called to check on Big Daddy. He sometimes flew out for day trips for work and they were concerned that somehow he could have been on one of those planes.
The sadness I felt was so intense. I can’t even give it a name. The tragedy so big and immeasureable, that I still couldn’t really give it justice through my words. I’ll never be able to.
After a few years of grief as the date drew close and on the date itself, I decided that I wasn’t doing that anymore. I could still be sorry, still remember, but I was done wringing myself out emotionally over the t.v. and the 9/11 coverage. I couldn’t do it anymore. I wouldn’t do it anymore.
I’ll never forget that day. I’ll never forget the horror as I was feeding the Princess lunch two days later, once flights had resumed, and two fighter planes went supersonic over our house to catch an aircraft putting out distress signals from an unruly passenger. But while I won’t forget, I can’t go there, mentally, anymore. For a dozen reasons or more.