Landmarks and milestones
Eleven years ago today, a little girl I didn't know at the time would ultimately be my niece was born to a woman who didn't know she'd be my sister-in-law. Today, that girl turns 11 and I couldn't be more delighted to be her aunt. She keeps telling us that she doesn't want to grow up, but in many ways, she's more grown up than she could know. I love the person she is, and I'm looking forward to the adult she will be some day.
Thirteen years ago today, I woke up to the news that the United States had been attacked. I wrote about my experience of that day pretty thoroughly last year because I realized that I'd never written about it before. I don't feel a need to go over it again. But it's important to acknowledge the day, the loss we all experienced. For me, I still have this weird regret about not having been in New York City, this desire for the solidarity of experience with my fellow New Yorkers. It's a bizarre thing to wish, to have been present for tragedy and horror. I was fortunate not to be there and I know it. I was fortunate not to lose anyone I knew or loved. At the same time, I often feel like the grief I always feel on this day somehow isn't as justified, as if my growing up on Long Island and all my years as a resident of the city don't matter in the face of what happened. But they do. I walked those streets every day. I saw the Twin Towers every single day. I remember them being built. I wasn't in the city at the time, but a piece of my heart will always be there. And so I acknowledge the day, a kind of yarzheit for my fellow New Yorkers.
And then I look at that picture of me and my niece again. Life goes on in all the best ways. That's ultimately the most important thing. And it's the best way we can pay tribute to those we've lost.
Thirteen years ago today, I woke up to the news that the United States had been attacked. I wrote about my experience of that day pretty thoroughly last year because I realized that I'd never written about it before. I don't feel a need to go over it again. But it's important to acknowledge the day, the loss we all experienced. For me, I still have this weird regret about not having been in New York City, this desire for the solidarity of experience with my fellow New Yorkers. It's a bizarre thing to wish, to have been present for tragedy and horror. I was fortunate not to be there and I know it. I was fortunate not to lose anyone I knew or loved. At the same time, I often feel like the grief I always feel on this day somehow isn't as justified, as if my growing up on Long Island and all my years as a resident of the city don't matter in the face of what happened. But they do. I walked those streets every day. I saw the Twin Towers every single day. I remember them being built. I wasn't in the city at the time, but a piece of my heart will always be there. And so I acknowledge the day, a kind of yarzheit for my fellow New Yorkers.
And then I look at that picture of me and my niece again. Life goes on in all the best ways. That's ultimately the most important thing. And it's the best way we can pay tribute to those we've lost.