10 years later...

We have been doing a good job today of avoiding myriad Sept 11th memorials and special tv programs, etc. It's not that we don't remember or respect...we very much do. There was a very brief period in my life while living abroad that I kept a hand written journal and the very first entry was either on that day or just slightly before. Because, ironically, I was at the airport getting ready to set out on my European adventure when the events of that day unfolded. We were listening to the local radio station while driving to the airport and were wondering why the usual comical morning show was talking about whether the world trade center could handle a large fire. Not funny, not funny at all.

As I went to check in for my flight to London via Newark, I was informed my flight was delayed due to weather. As was every other flight on the schedule board. The employee at the check in counter was trying to say this with a straight face, but we all could see the smoking building on the TV in the waiting area. I can remember the airport being eerily calm, people gathered around the many TVs scattered throughout the building. And then, we all watched in what seemed like slow motion as a second plane hovered on the horizon and then barreled into the second building. Collectively, we went from being in awe from what seemed like a horrific accident to fear of something much, much worse. All flights were grounded and I entered a state of limbo...all of my possessions were in storage in anticipation of my long absence, my car was settled into the barn and I was all set to go. After staying in the airport for a bit we headed back to Alex's mom's house to regroup. We watched the various news reports. We donated blood. We waited.

There is one image that is burned into my brain and brings me close to tears every time it enters my brain. As the TV cameras panned over the buildings as they were smoking, fire shooting out from the upper floors, it appeared as though many pieces of paper were fluttering down to the ground, almost as if it was snowing lightly. And then it became clear that these were not pieces of paper but people who were jumping to a certain death, likely their only way to escape from the fires above.

We heard of the plane that crashed into a field...we watched first one tower and then the second fall...watched people running to escape a quickly spreading cloud of what was likely very toxic dust and materials. And we all knew, this would change things. Days, weeks, months, years filled with images and stories of those who lived, those who died, those who should have died now living with survivor's guilt. The person who gave up their seat on a flight so that another could see their family. The person who went out on a smoke break even though they didn't smoke. The person who accidentally slept in and never made it in to work. Or the stories of friends, spouses, family, coworkers, children now silent under a pile of rubble. Because that was the other striking thing about all of the pictures we saw immediately after the collapse of the towers...there were no bodies. Nobody to save. They were all under tons of twisted metal and concrete and it would take a long time to gather them all up and return them to their loved ones. Even longer to clear the rubble. And, as time goes on, the memories and images grow softer in our minds though are still there.

I eventually made it on a plane to Europe three days later and I remember it being pretty empty. I do not recall being overly nervous about getting on a plane after all that had happened, security was pretty tight, it was better to just not think about it. I feel lucky to be somewhat removed from the aftermath in London, to not be barraged with images every day. I returned home to a changed American landscape that December. American flags hung everywhere, the level of patriotism had almost reached ridiculous levels (freedom fries? really?) And of course, the war.

And now it is 10 years later. My life has changed a lot though has followed a path that I had plotted out even back then. I have graduated undergrad, gotten married, completed medical school, had two beautiful children, purchased a home, started residency and moved on to fellowship. We are not in the state of our first choosing, but you can't have everything I suppose. And even that has been a blessing in it's own ways.

So, this day gives me pause to remember the adventure I was embarking on that day, the great sense of tragedy and unity, and all of the good things that have happened in my life since then. I do not need to watch a replay of the images because I do not want to clarify them in my mind...the softness of time has made them easier. Today I was caught off guard by one image on postsecret...once again, I had to look carefully at what it was and then my mind went back to the images of pieces of paper fluttering from the sky. There is a great deal of bad and evil in the world, but I have chosen to focus and nurture those things that are good. I have learned radical acceptance of those things that I cannot change, do my part to make the world a good place for others...save those that I can, take away lessons from those that I cannot without dwelling too much. I choose to see the good in myself and in others.