All I could think about, as we boarded, was the fact that I would finally be standing on the bow of a boat, on the North Atlantic ocean, in the early fall, once again. I pictured the dark blue swells and the keel of the bow slamming into them; I could hear in my minds ear, the sounds and the slight gurgle of froth, combined with the swells and progressively bigger waves, breaking... I smelled the harbor and tasted the salt in the air as we ascended the aluminum gang- plank.
This to me, was heaven on earth. I could not comprehend that it was possible for anyone to feel any other way about it.
It was not heaven for my poor, wretching, Wonderful Wife, less than an hour later.
I was confused, as my heart wrenched for the agony my new Lovely Bride was in. Guilt began to slowly set in, like a dismal fog and the anticipated joy of standing in my souls born true station ebbed rhythmically away.
What began as a long awaited adventure for me became a consuming and helpless empathy for my true love. All concern for the journey was replaced by the need to comfort her.
It was not about me, anymore...
Minutes later, below deck we heard the news about the first tower...
No one believed it, at first. It had to be a mistake. Unfortunately, the news would get much worse...
That was where we were on September 11th, 2001.
The tragedy eclipsed everything else in our Nation. Many lessons came from those horrendouse weeks and months, but the most important had nothing to do with politics, policy or our eventual military reactions. It had nothing to do with the wars that followed, or the haunting need we all felt for protecting our grieving country.
This was a lesson of our universal and inescapable fragility.
It woke up a world to a fact that had somehow had been lulled by a pleasant denial.
There is no " safety", like we had in games like hide and seek, as children.
Everyone saw the destruction and death that was never even an imagined possibility, and part of them, part of us, all realized that it could be us..
Or our family. For many, it was....
I share often about the notes I leave my family, usually minutes or seconds before I walk out our kitchen door. It may not be a jet falling from the sky or a mentally ill sociopath with an arsenal that happens to find me. It might be residuals from a two pound cheeseburger, letting loose in my arteries, or my hand mistakenly hitting a 480 volt cable, feeding a machine.
How often have we all had our entire world change in one second that we never saw coming? No warning, no do over... No second chance...
What I take from this day is the reality of mortality.
This is not a dress rehearsal...
I sat quietly for a moment this morning and said a prayer for all those whose lives were cut short and the family and friends left behind them. I thanked God for the first responders that risked their lives and those who made the ultimate sacrifice. No greater love than giving your life for your brother..or a stranger... My heart breaks for those suffering thirteen years after, from health affects caused by their service at ground zero, at that time.
It is easy to walk away with anger and hate for those who perpetrated this. In many cases, I think it is nearly impossible not too...
But I hope in the baggage that comes with this day, that we can pull something out that may add a tiny bit to our lives...
Maybe, like we did on that day thirteen years ago, we can grab our children and spouses, as they walk thru the door, safe. Hug them tightly, in remembrance, in gratitude.
Knowing there are no guarantees and that each moment we are graced with, would feel like an eternity, without..
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