Friday, September 11, 2009
So Damn Sorry
It's 9-11.... need I say more?
I'll never forget that day. You won't either.
For me, the panic really didn't set in until late in the day - after the Pentagon was attacked. Is that because it's close to home? Probably not. I think it is because my dad always told me there'd never be another war on American soil. The Trade Centers? That was Terrorism - we always had that. But, WAR is what we had when they hit the Pentagon. War is what we've had ever since.....
Today it is rainy and grey. Just like I think it should be on every September 11th, from now until forever.
You know what I think I will always remember most?
Days after... I was fighting constant migraines from all the stress and crying. This night was no different. My husband was simply angry. He yelled at me every time I cried. He wanted to re-enlist in the military but he was too old. He wanted to fight. So, the boys (then in 7th and 9th grade) tiptoed around him so as to not become the target of his anger. The whole thing was making me sick. The skies were so quiet - it was eerie.
This one night, I had gone to bed. I managed to find a stupid sit-com on TV, and I started to fall asleep. My husband came to bed. Thinking I was asleep, he changed the channel. It was another one of those shows... you know the ones.... "Here's a picture of my dad. We haven't seen him since the morning of the 11th. He was on the 16th floor of the North Tower. If you've seen him, please call us at 555-1212." and then they'd move to the next person, and the next person, and the next person. The line never ended.
I kept my eyes closed, I tried to think of anything else... I couldn't... I couldn't block out their voices, their tears, their sorrow and their pain...
I sat up in bed, and screamed bloody murder at my husband.... "I can't take it anymore! I can't. I am sorry they lost their mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers, children, their best friends. I am sorry. I am so DAMN sorry. And, there is not a thing I can do about it!"
And then I collapsed into sobs, heaving sobs. The kind that don't stop. The kind where you can't breath and the snot and tears all run together and you can't even tell the difference anymore. I cried all night. This time my husband didn't yell at me. This time, he cried, too.
I'll never forget that. Not for as long as I live.
Still, I am so damn sorry.