So many of us are spending time remembering where we were ten years ago on the 11th of September, and remembering seems to come easily because forgetting such moments seems impossible. I’d just returned home to Washington from my second summer of living in Delaware and New Jersey working as a nanny. Before I flew home, Nicole and I went up to New York for a quick visit, acting as tourists and taking in all that the big city had to offer. We were 21 and 22 years old, still practically kids. We did all the typical New York tourist things and a little bit more. I flew back home to Washington on September 08th.
On the morning of September 11th, I had not yet gone back to college and was asleep at my parent’s house when Izak, who was getting ready or school, burst into my room announcing that New York had possibly been hit with a bomb. I stumbled out of bed and huddled around the TV with Izak and my parents. We watched as the newscaster attempted to commentate what was happening. Airplanes…not a bomb. I don’t think I understood the gravity of what was happening, but it became apparent very quickly that a great tragedy was unfolding before our eyes.
Peeling ourselves away from the TV my mom and I went to pick blackberries at a secret patch a few minutes away, Izak went to school and my dad off to work. As my mom and I picked blackberries, I’ll never forget her bursting into tears saying that for each blackberry that she picked she couldn’t help but think of that representing a person affected by the airplane attacks on the Twin Towers. After that we picked in silence and I too sent a little prayer with each berry that plunked in to my bucket.
A short time later we went back home and discovered that my dad had left work to come home and watch the news. So we watched. A few friends called to make sure that I’d made it home from the East Coast, last they’d heard I was headed for New York City. I was fine, but the fact that just days before I’d been strolling through Central Park, riding the subway, watching a broadway show and taking my picture with the Twin Towers behind me just didn’t seem all together possible.
I’ve avoided listening to remembrances on the radio or news stories reminding me about that day. I don’t really need a reminder to remember. The horror of watching the news that day and the following months/years is etched well into my mind. I don’t imagine I’ll ever forget some of those images. Ever.
We bought some blackberries last week at the Farmers Market and I’ve been sprinkling them into my yogurt in the morning. Today I stood staring at the remaining little basket left over from our purchase and thought of those blackberries I picked with my mom 10 years ago. We could still be picking today and still not have said enough prayers for those affected by September 11th and the events that followed.
