Each year, I’ve written something about September 11th, 2001. This year, I tried to avoid it. Maybe if I did, I wouldn’t have to think about it until next year. But there is no escaping this. Ever watch a movie, know how it ends, and still hope that somehow because you want a different ending that maybe this time it will end differently? Yea, that doesn’t happen either.
I go to sleep every September 10th, thinking that maybe when I wake up, someone will tell me that I had a very bad nightmare. It still hasn’t happened. It never will.
I’ve been staying in bed much longer. That’s not something I do at all since sleep escapes me most nights until its time to wake up and then that’s when my body decides it wants to slumber.
Deciding to let go of what’s hurting inside, I put together my annual 9/11 wall. I live in a high-rise apartment building and 13 years ago, I was compelled to “decorate” the wall that everyone coming out of the elevator could see. It was my wall, my way of dealing with 9/11. I wanted every one to not forget. I didn’t think the response was great until the following year, when neighbors asked if I would be doing it again. That’s when my wall became something every one needed to see. They were feeling it too.
My wall is simple. I put it up this morning and went back to bed after making my husband some breakfast.
I woke up with my constant companion these days; the lump in my throat. There’s no hiding from this any more. Its time for me to face it like I do every year but this year, for some reason, it’s just harder. I walked to the kitchen in an attempt to make something for me to eat when I saw under my door, notes.
“Thank you for the wall.” “Thank you for telling us about what’s going on with 9/11 illnesses, we didn’t know.” “Thank you for remembering my friend.” “I came this morning because my mother called and said, “The wall is up. I had to see what you did this year. Thank you.”
Thank me? I put that wall up so that others can remember, so that those to young to understand, can. I put that wall up in tears this morning, hoping no one would walk out of the elevator. I went back to bed thinking today wasn’t a great day to put up that wall.
It’s feels so good to be wrong.