I will never forget the morning of September 11, 2001. I was sleeping between a temp job and finding a full time job in Virginia. I had only lived in Portsmouth for 6 weeks or so. My mom had left the day before to go back to North Dakota. Melanie called me and said there was a plane crash and she wasn't kidding. I found nothing on the radio and the cable was out. I ran to Brad's house to get the rabbit ears. By the time I returned home, the cable was back on and the news was worse than I could have imagined. Like most of the country, I could not stop watching Peter Jennings and the coverage...for days and days. It was both so real and unreal at the same time. I felt hollow and emotional, distrusting and loving. I felt far away from my family. My aunt and uncle live in Manhattan and I was worried. I learned exactly what fear feels like...and I didn't like it.
In the past 11 years, I have learned to deal with the fear. It hasn't gone totally away, but I am able to live my life in an extremely multicultural community and feel safe. I am thankful for that. I don't want to raise RT in fear. It isn't fair to him.
I have also learned to live my life, to do what makes me happy. It took awhile for me to find my path, but in finding it, I love the direction my life has taken.
So, here I am, in Boston, which is a city I never even considered living in, finding my way. And I am loving it. Moving here was the right decision for our family. RT will always live in the shadow of the memory of 9-11, but he will also live in communities with people of all cultures, races, religions, sexual orientations, live choices, and it will be normal for him. That is the best gift we can give him.
So, ultimately, in remembering 9-11, I choose to celebrate life and diversity and quash hate and intolerance...at least in our lives. Tonight I will cook dinner for my family and spend time together and be grateful. That is the best triumph over the attacks of 9-11.