I didn’t realize the date until I came into the office this morning and saw the sign posted in the elevator lobby: September 11, We Won’t Forget. Strange, the way the human mind works – when confronted with an event that surreal, so far beyond comprehension, we tend to let it slip from our minds, taking on the same quality as a disturbing dream – remembered but not really absorbed, lingering half-over the edge of consciousness. On the one hand, I can vividly remember the whole day – the timeline of it, what I was doing when I found out, who came over to the house to watch CNN and drink wine, what time Coz and Eric, who had been scheduled to fly to New York that morning, finally called to let me know they were alive. On the other, it seems so long ago and far away that I might almost have seen it in a movie somewhere, and not in my own house. I also remember the first time I saw the post-9/11 skyline, months later. I was riding in the back of the hired car, forehead leaning against the window as usual, daydreaming and planning my weekend. As we crossed the Triborough Bridge, I got my first clear view of downtown, and it sucked the breath right out of me. There was this enormous hole. I hadn’t banked on it hitting me so hard; I hadn’t even thought about it, really.
The drama’s over for me, now. Today, I’ll just thank my lucky stars one more time that nobody I loved died that day, even as my heart goes out to those who were not so fortunate.
And isn’t it fitting that I just happen to be hosting a little dinner tonight for some of my dearest friends? Totally coincidental, but I can’t think of a better thing to do on this day than sit with them and laugh and eat and drink and love each other. Friends make the future bright – and the future, not the past, is where it’s at.