Eight years ago it was a beautiful blue day. I remarked what a beautiful day it was as I returned home from dropping the kids off at school. Ian to P.S. 19 and Sarah up to PPAS. Ed was in Kansas City doing The Philadelphia Story at Missouri Rep, so I was the theatre widow, again. I got home and went straight to the routine. Keys in the bowl, click on GMA, turn on the kettle for coffee, and hit the bathroom...the routine disrupted by the highly agitated voices of Charlie and Diane on GMA. I wandered back into the living room curious to what was going on. At first, I couldn't quite figure out or perhaps it simply wasn't computing, what the picture I was looking at actually was. I saw a business building with a gaping hole flames blazing away, smoke pouring from the hole. Then Charlie said, "Again, the World Trade Tower has been struck by a plane". I immediately grabbed my cell phone and called Ed. "Wake up! Turn on CNN. Some idiot just flew his plane into the World Trade Center." Ed groggily turned on the tv as I scrambled atop the radiator to look out the window facing the WTC. I could see the flames and smoke, and as we spoke I saw it, another plane flying low, and I asked Ed do you see that? why is that plane flying so close to the...and then OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD! IT FLEW INTO THE BUILDING! OH MY GOD! Ed screaming at the same time, WHAT WAS THAT? WAS THERE AN EXPLOSION? WHAT HAPPENED? TALK TO ME!! It was in that moment it wasn't some "idiot" with a small plane or a wind shear or a traffic control error, we were under attack and A LOT of people were going to be dead. Then my phone in the house began ringing off the hook, my call waiting beeping beeping beeping. I went to the roof of my building to get a better view, and what I saw was like something out of an Action Movie. A surreal picture of WTC buildings ripped open, flames everywhere, smoke choking the perfectly beautiful BLUE sky. I called my friend Cathy and we decided to check on Ian, Alex, and Melissa. I called PPAS but couldn't get through. So I called Guy and Peggy and asked if they could pick up Sarah and I'd get to them when I could, but Guy told me he already tried and was refused. So we took our portable radio to listen to 1010. We went to Melissa's school first and the nuns said, "Locked down, no one leaves and no one comes in." So we went to P.S. 19 to get the boys. We plucked our boys and headed home, and that's when we heard that the first tower had collapsed. Stunned, shocked, undone we climbed the steps to 52 E. 7th St to witness the impossible. As we climbed up the five floors I explained to the boys that something bad had happened, but not to be afraid. I opened the door to the roof, and as we stepped out I said, "Look, see Ian one of the Towers fell down' and with that the 2nd tower made it's slow decent into the smoke, ash, and flames. An eerily beautiful waterfall of glass shimmering in the sunshine against a boiling dark grey cloud of smoke. The huge antenna atop of the building slowly sank to its grave, swallowed up and never to be seen again. Knocked to the ground by the magnitude of what I just witnessed, my soul rendered apart for the loss of life, the worry for friends we have who worked there. I turned and saw our minister from next door standing on the roof looking on in astonishment. No one had words, how could we? Carl, a neighbor saying over and over again "I should have been there, right where the hole is, I over slept. What does that mean?" Then Ian, with the wisdom only a child can own, said, "Don't be sad, Momma, they're all angels now. Don't you see them going up?" And sure enough, there in the midst of chaos and choking smoke, somehow a beam of sunlight broke through it all making a kind of stairway to Heaven. Only the 6 year old child could recognize it for what it was.
I gave Ian to Cathy and headed to my apartment to find the documents: Birth certificate, Wedding certificate, bills with my name and address, bank statements with Sarah's name and address. I strapped a scooter on my back, grabbed the other one, tied a bandanna over my nose and raced uptown to get my daughter before the City got completely locked down and I couldn't get to her. I had visions of Sarah on one side of 42nd St and Me on the other side, not being able to reach each other. As I reached the Bowery and 7th St. the light changed so I stopped and saw the people, so many of them walking up the Bowery, covered from head to toe in dust. Like Zombies they moved, shocked with eyes unfocused, and then a van driving quickly up the Ave. billowing dust behind it. The van came to a halt as the light changed and as it pitched the dust landed at my feet in a kind of a splat, and I thought, "Oh my God, there are people in that dust, just tiny pieces of DNA right there." So I respectfully stepped around it and said a prayer. As I moved Northwest toward the school it felt like a film set, I kept waiting for the A.D. to call, "Cut! Back to One!" It never happened. Just one long shot. I arrived at the school to contained confusion. Children asking me if I had seen their mom or dad. I only knew a few kids, it was Sarah's first year there. I felt so bad for them. None of the cell phones worked, panic at not knowing exactly what was going on. I finally was given Sarah and as we opened the scooter Sarah broke the heaviness of the day. "MOM! You forgot my helmet. I'm going to get a ticket!" Not today, sweetie, not today.
The smell lasted for what seemed like forever. Months. It still feels like yesterday. It's hard to believe 8 years have passed. Life moved on and yet it didn't. For New Yorkers, somehow, it never will.
So today was opposite day, the weather, that is. Cold, rainy, windy, the Heavens still cry for the loss of life in such a senseless way, and the names were read again as they always are, the site slowly creeping along to renewal. A Phoenix waiting to burst forth. I left the house feeling down and a bit guilty that I walked away from the reading of the names, but I had to get my bloods done for surgery. I arrived to picked up my Rx for blood work, but it wasn't ready. That's okay, I had some questions, so I speak with Gillian, one of the Nurse Practitioners. My breast cancer is HER2+. An aggressive form. It's a gene that over expresses itself making it very easy to multiply cancer cells quickly. I have to laugh, how ironic. Over express? That explains all those moments in my life that I over reacted. I wasn't over reacting, I was "over expressing" It's genetic, I was programmed to be that way. See I wasn't nuts, just genetically programmed to go nuts. (this gene has nothing to do with mood, by the way ; P) So we discussed lumpectomy vs. mastectomy, and Gillian was able to talk me down from the crazy "Over expressing" idea of just removing both. I realized I had to go get Ian soon, so we started to get the Rx filled out when the results of the MRI biopsy from Wednesday came in. The tiny spot found on 8/28's MRI was negative. No breast cancer. Pampaloma, with some irregularity, possibly precancerous. So just to be clear, I DO have breast cancer, Mr. Lumpy. But the baby spot Mr. Lumpy undoubtedly sent out will not get the chance to morph into Mrs. Lumpy. It's great news! I'll have a double Lumpectomy and my breast will be much smaller, but won't be as big a surgery as we thought it might be. Dr. Axelrod arrived at that moment and got the news. We all had a joyous moment. I headed down to get bloods drawn, and then off to meet Ian for his callback (which kicked Butt), and from there home to sit in a pool of happiness. While the rest of New York and beyond remember the anniversary of 9/11/01. I don't feel guilty, sad for the loss of live and lives changed forever, but too happy for me. Selfish? No. I've earned this happiness.
And now I know why I went to DSW last night, and why I didn't win a single thing there. I had to lose the trivial to win the best prize of all. The saving of most of my breast. All those b*tch*s can keep their shoes, I wouldn't trade with them for anything. I'll keep my worn out shoes, and be happy for the day. I have had good news today. And that is worth everything.
Sorry for the long post, but I had to share the story, because we must never forget. Like a stone in a calm lake, the ripples continue to affect everything in its path. So remember that what you do or say is like a stone thrown, it can't be taken back and when it's said in hate its affects will last. Hug your family, let things go, they don't really mean that much in the bigger scope of your life. Become a better person. Random acts of kindness are contagious, and your life will have meaning. True meaning.
Nite!
Love and Light
Melissa
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