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ONE
YEAR LATER
By: Laurel Ross
Living
in the NYC vicinity, it's hard not to think about the
events of last year. The little things stick in my head
- the brain dead paralegal who started working for me
on the 10th; the phone call on the morning of the 11th
that we laughed about, followed by the sheer shock of
realization as to what had really happened. The sounds
on the radio as the towers collapsed. My frantic phone
calls to friends, trying to make sure everyone was safe.
Driving home in a state of shock. The absolute, perfect
beauty of that morning.
The
following day, I learned that the brother of one of
my staff members was missing. I remember spending 48
hours on the phone and internet, reaching out for any
sign of hope, trying unsuccessfully to find John. Then
I learned that the husbands' of my doctor and an old
camp friend were among the missing; both women pregnant
with children who would never know their fathers. The
stillness of that week, the empty roads, the overwhelming
silence.
So
much has changed. The trust and innocence about the
world around me is gone. My consciousness permanently
altered. I've noticed that outside of New York, the
events affected others differently. Without the intensity
that it struck us. I've yet to get through a day where
I don't have a memory or thought of 9/11. And I still
have moments where I find myself so caught up in that
remembrance that I can barely catch my breath.
I've
watched 9/11 continues to take its toll. I've watched
helplessly as the loss of his brother has sent my employee
into a downward spiral. I see it in the voices of those
who have been touched directly by loss. I can see it
in the faces of others, how a perfectly blue sky can
set off the memories of a day of horror and a chain
of sadness.
As
the plethora of memorials begin to appear on the immediate
horizon, I feel the fear that's been a constant presence
become stronger. Will I ever again be free of that fear?
I don't think that I will ever be the same. Maybe that's
not a bad thing. Life has taken on new meaning and inspiration
for me. I cry a lot more, but I appreciate a lot more.
The value of each moment I've been given. How life is
too short not to make the most of our time. The need
to make each day count.
Editors
Note: Laurel Ross welcomes your (gentle) comments. Her
email is LaurelRoss39@aol.com
aug
2002
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