Thursday, September 11, 2008

THE question has been asked.

Where were you when...

It's asked every year and every year I try to avoid the answer. Honestly, I don't like to think about it. I don't like to remember. I know no one does. So why do I feel guilty that I don't want to remember?

Maybe it's all the talk of patriotism and supporting your country and how horrible it was and how I'm supposed to be outraged. I am a patriot. I love my country and I am grateful for the freedoms that are afforded me simply because I live here. I support our troops. I wish they could come home and I wish there was a way to make the Middle East stable enough for them to just hop on planes and be home with their families. Yes what happened seven years ago was horrifying and I hurt for the families who have to face this day every year with a loss.

But the honesty is that I don't want to remember. I don't want to see the pictures and hear the story again. I didn't handle it well the first time. I don't want to face it again.

Where was I? I was in downtown Atlanta attending a training class for my job at the bank. I thought it was a bad joke or a horrible accident when the first plane hit. Then I heard about the Pentagon and the second plane and I disengaged. I completely shut myself down and just watched numbly as the towers collapsed.

Class was canceled and we were sent back to our branches because they wanted as many people out of downtown (especially the financial buildings) as possible. What should have been a 20 minute drive took an hour and a half because offices were shutting down left and right. I got back to the branch and it seemed like everyone was just going about business as usual. Maybe we were all numb.

I finished my day and went home where my roommate was in her pajama pants on the couch watching all the coverage and crying. My phone rang telling me that my cousin (who was working near the Pentagon) was ok and he would let everyone know what he knew as soon as he could. But I just watched numbly. No crying, no yelling, no anger, no fear. Just numb.

This morning I took Mo to school very aware of what day it was. The flags were at half mast and I felt the numbness coming back. I got home and my hubby was watching something recounting the events. The numbness grew. As soon as he got in the shower I turned the TV off. I turned it back on for a movie and the kids are watching the Pink Panther but I have avoided anything that reminds me. I don't like being numb.

3 comments:

Parker Family said...

Thanks for sharing that. It's a different perspective, and interesting to think about.

Staci said...

I think that no matter what we felt, numbness, outrage, or complete sorrow, it comes back each year. I've had cartoons on our tv all day to avoid any news coverage, not wanting to relive it either. Thanks for sharing.

Heather Wigen said...

I know what you mean. I was pregnant at the time and remember thinking "we're bringing a child into this world" and "what the hell are we doing". I reminded my hubby that 7 years ago today he broke a rib. Since everyone got off work early that day his cousin came over and they were working on his Jeep. The transmission slipped, hubby caught it, and broke a rib. Weird thing to remember, but it was something else that happened that day.