Reflecting on some of the more pivotal tragic memories in my life, it occurred to me that quite a number of them happened while I was in bed. (Mind out of the gutter, people – we're being solemn and respectful here). I recall waking up to hear about the space shuttle explosion. I was in a hotel room reading a book/dozing on the bed when Aaliyah's death was announced. I had flown in from an overseas trip and was getting over jetlag when the news broke in to say that JFK Jr.'s plane was missing. I was in bed battling the flu in a Nyquil haze when BougieOlderBro called to tell me my father had passed away. And I vividly recall waking up from a restless sleep early one Los Angeles morning wondering 1) why I'd left the TV on all night and 2) why was Independence Day playing at 7:00 am?
On each of these occasions, I remember wondering for a few brief moments if I was still asleep and trapped in a very bad dream. I remember thinking if I could just wake up, none of this would be real. I remember thinking these are things that affect other people… not me. But the more awake I became, the more I realized that living nightmares are far worse. Your nightmare has become the reality. You can't re-script the outcome, drink warm beverages or flip to the cool side of the pillow to make it all go away. You get no do-overs.
In the case of my father's passing, I did not have the luxury of wallowing in sorrow; there was simply too much to be done. For those of you who have had a close relative pass, you know that in most cases your time is spent comforting others around you. The funeral, the reception, the endless phone calls… it becomes about their grief and reassuring them that you are okay (even if you're not). One of my father's best friends was so distraught that his raw pain threatened to unleash mine. Needing to keep it together, I passed him on for my older brother to handle. I was actually doing okay (façade in place) until my niece asked me if Grandpa was an angel now. I took to the bed for the rest of the night and a lot of the next day.
In the case of 9/11 there was a sort of numbness in the face of so much senseless tragedy and a suspended state of disbelief. I was working for a large media company at the time; we had offices in New York City. Since our Director of Human Resources just completely shut down emotionally (hid in her office with the door locked), it fell to me to organize a phone bank, check on employees' whereabouts, draft a letter for our CEO to send out and at noon send everyone at all of our offices across the country home. Because I lived near LAX, the road to get to my home was blocked and you had to show proof of residency to get down the street. I had a Texas driver's license, San Francisco address on my checks and my car was still registered in Texas as well. For some reason, I was absolutely frantic and started crying while digging in the back seat before coming up with a phone bill showing my name and LA address. The police officer was so concerned that he got in my car and drove me the half block home before walking back to his post. My S/O was supposed to be flying that day, one of my best friends worked in D.C. and my sister was supposed to be on a plane. I did not draw an easy breath until all my loved ones were accounted for and safe.
Unfortunately, we have become such a media-centric society; there is nowhere to hide from the memories. You almost become desensitized to the immense scale of horror and tragedy. So instead of re-capping the event whose anniversary is being recognized today, I'll simply take this moment to reflect on lives lost. I'll say a prayer or two for all the souls and wish nothing but hope and happiness for those left behind. Rest in peace, be at peace.
5 comments:
Well written. Condolences on your father.
I was in the LA Airport on 9/11, ended spending three days in the Airport Ramada. That feeling of the world coming to an end while you are trapped in a room with brown carpet will stay with me forever.
Hmm, thanks for making it broader yet more personal. Great post.
Surprisingly, I had a lot of traffic to my blog regarding the 9/11 post. Out of nowhere came all these 9/11 conspiracy buffs. Flight 93 was shot down by American fighter jets. The Pentagon was hit by a missile. There seems to be no end of the conspiracies. Conspiracies seem to be an American tradition following tragedies. It couldn't be that we were complacent and that our defenses were breached by a group of determined and angry young men.
I also had one commentor basically say that 9/11 was in the past. We need to look forward and forget about the past. What? If you don't learn from your past mistakes... I figure that lecturing him would be useless.
Today is a day of remembrance and reflection. Tomorrow, will be a day to look forward and to figure out how we get out of Afghanistan and Iraq. Tomorrow's a day that we should check our border security. Tomorrow, we should finally figure out where Osama bin Laden is really hiding and bring him and his munchkins to justice.
I was 17 and pregnant when 9/11 happened. I remember being in school and teachers crying and being frantic and the students just wanting to know if we are going to get out of school early. I remember watching the news and wondering, "what movie is this?" I can remember the tension in the air in downtown Baltimore and being told I couldn't use my cell phone. When I finally realized all that was going on around me, I looked down at my pregnant belly wondering. " what kind of a world am I bringing a child into?". Then one month and two days later I had my youngest son and still today I look at this world and look at my sons and wonder yet still, "What kind of world did I bring them into?". I pray for those who were affected during this great tragedy. I shake my head at the conspiracy theorist who try to disregard and downgrade a great tragedy in American history. I support those who want truth, justice and an end to terrorism. I was too young to understand all that was going on that day, but now I feel the cries of a millon people, I hear the grief of the survivors who are full of remorse, I see the shame in the faces of our former leaders and I pray for the protection of our country and a healing for the souls who were damaged by this sad, sad day.
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