I guess today is as appropriate a day as any to start blogging again. But in honor of the horrific events that happened eleven years ago today, I just can’t do snark right now. It doesn’t feel right. In fact, it feels sacrilegious.
In 2001, I worked for a small software developer in New York City. I was a project manager, where I was responsible for determining what features our clients wanted, writing the engineering specifications for them, designing the graphic interface for the new features, testing those features to ensure that they work properly, writing the user documentation, and then training our clients to use the new features. Initially, I loved my job. I loved the combination of techno-geekery and creativity. I got to design software features and the elements of the graphic interface, contribute to the user guide, and play with software. But by the fall of that year, the software application I was originally working on and had redesigned was abandoned, my boss and I weren’t getting along very well, and the company was slashing employees left and right. Oh, and I was also rather preoccupied with my impending wedding. It was a recipe for near complete job dissatisfaction.
The morning of September 11, 2001 started out pretty much like any other. I took the train into work, to a job that I no longer enjoyed. I remember wanting to call in sick, to work from home, but I didn’t because I was supposed to accompany one of our sales reps on a sales call. Needless to say, that call never happened. Life as we all knew it changed forever.
Eleven days later, the Hubster officially became the Hubster. We were married, and were grateful to be surrounded by our friends and family. Those who couldn’t fly in to join us were missed terribly, but no absence was felt as much as that of Hubster’s friend, the Firefighter. While everyone who could make it to the ground floor of the towers ran to safety, the Firefighter ran in to help. He never made it out.
While the Hubster and I started a new life together, others struggled with their horrific losses.
When I think about September 11, 2001, and watch the television shows honoring the fallen, and read the articles about those who perished, I am immediately ripped back to that gorgeous fall morning. My stomach clenches, my eyes fill with tears, and then I remember the amazing things that happened in the aftereffect of unfathomable tragedy: the sense of community, the willingness to reach out to one another and make sure we were safe, and gratitude that I came home safely.