Today

8:00 am

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.

9:30 am

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.

10:57 am

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.

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