Keep Breathing
It was 8:15 in the morning on September 11th, 2001. I was still in my pajamas when the phone rang. I heard my Mom's voice on the line asking me if I had heard what had happened. I, of course, didn't have a clue as I had just rolled out of bed. She told me to turn on the TV and that a plane had crashed into the World Trade Center.
Not three months before, June 2001, Andy and I traveled with my family to New York City. My brother was living in the city and Andy had never been. We won tickets to see David Letterman so that sealed the deal. The second day of our trip, we went to the World Trade Center. I have a picture of me, pregnant with Andrew in the elevator, pointing to the number 100 that lit up at the top of the elevator. To this day, I tell Andrew that he was in the WTC, and in my belly he visited the Windows on the World. I ate there with my Dad when I was in 8th grade and I will never forget the lights from so high above.
As I watched the second plane fly into the tower, and then watch them crumble to the ground, I thought of my brother, and panic spread across my chest. I breathed shallowly, not knowing exactly what part of the city he worked in. Shortly after talking with my Mom, I called my Dad and my sister. None of them had reached him yet. I dialed over and over only to reach a busy signal. My mind began to think the worst, even though I knew he had no reason to be in the WTC.
I remember exactly where I was standing when the phone rang and I picked it up hearing my brother's voice. Through sobs, he began to explain to me what he had been through that morning as he walked the broken streets of New York. My only wish was that I could reach my arms through the phone and hug him. I love my brother. And I am so grateful that he is on the planet.
I am acutely aware today that there are many who never got that phone call. They never got to receive that sigh of relief. Some are still angry. Some have forgiven. Others continue to grieve their outrageous losses. Today, I am practicing breathing in love and breathing it back out. To those who still suffer near and far; those who suffer loss at the hands of violence perpetrated by those who have forgotten that we are connected. It is a sad, devastating illusion some of us walk around with; the dream that we are separate from each other. Today, my deepest prayer goes to those who have forgotten who they are and who we are together. I pray for a remembering like they have never known. And for those who walk the walk of grief today and everyday, with strong lungs full of lots of air, I breathe out Love for you.
Jenny, your words have touched the depthsof my soul.....mom
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This past 911, 2011 I did try to avoid watching the news coverage assuming that it would be coated with american patriotism. That night I did end up watching a documentary that was to follow a rooky fireman but ended up recording the events of 911. It shows these firemen reponding to the call for help at the twin towers. And it was here that they put there lives at risk to help others. Your heart goes out to these men and the people that found themselves involved in this terrible event. These firemen did not do it for there country, for patriotism, or anything else. They did it because a fellow human being needed help, as simple as that.
And your point is a good one that we are not seperate groups. We may live in different countries and speak different languages but we are all people with similar hopes and dreams.
Just get to know someone from a different background or place of origin and these similarities will surface.
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