9.11.2001. One Day After.

Usually I have a September 11th post on the day of - but this year I decided to wait a day. Sentimental reasons.

New York will forever be my lifeline. As I spend months away from home, I get incredibly sad and hungry for the smoggy air, the honking taxi horns, the shadows of high-rises cast onto the streets. I haven't been home since June and it's driving me nuts. I long to hear the giggles of my siblings, my God Daughter asking to watch Alice in Wonderland for the 50th time, rocking my God Son to sleep as I look out their Bronx apartment window. What would happen if I was deprived of that? Why would someone want to take that from me? From us? 

My God Daughter, K 

As I get older, I hear the conspiracy theories and they make me sick. To think that a human being would plan to kill thousands of people for their own guilty pleasure. Regardless of whether I agree with what people do or believe - I could never take another life. It hurts to think of how close I've come to losing crucial members of my life on one fateful day. 

My 12 year-old sister lives in New York, and she told me yesterday that she's afraid to fly to Florida because of 9/11. She's finally old enough to view the event and grasp what actually happened. What do I tell her for reassurance? It'll never happen again? 

Most of my trips to NY these days are geared towards giving the kids authentic New York City experiences. Bronx Zoo, Central Park, Times Square, Coney Island. Should I be fearful of taking them on these adventures? As a New Yorker I was raised to be fearless - to do what I wanted when and if I wanted, but to be aware of my surroundings at all times. I won't start now, and I'm working to implement that same level of fearlessness in my siblings. Take care when you go out. 

Guard your purse. Look before you cross the street. The word Terrorist will never come up in those conversations.  I love my "kids" too much to have them living in fear. No matter what the future holds.

My Littles at Central Park Zoo

My city is beautiful. It's dirty, it's grungy, it's concrete. Somehow, in the middle of all that trees grow, flowers bloom - children play. Terrorists don't want to see that. They don't want to hear the music blaring from a local bodega, or the bustle of people shopping on Fordham road. Why should we give them what they want - when they took so much from us? 

New Yorkers are never scared. If we can live in our mean streets with our heads up - we can survive anything. 

9.11.01. Lest we forget...

 View my previous September 11th Posts Here. And Here.