What Had Always Mattered

I’m not sure that anyone forgets where they were when the first plane hit the North Tower. And though twenty-five years have passed, we are easily transported to that exact location, the words, the person who delivered them, where we were standing, and what would be our instant plan of action. Surely the first tragedy happened not far from where we sit right now on the East End of Long Island. I would say almost everyone here knew someone who was impacted directly that day and perhaps many who hold memories of previous visits to the Towers and ‘Windows on the World’.

For me we had just started a new school year and the fourth and fifth grade chorus had just met in the gymnasium. After the rehearsal I walked into the Main Office to check the ‘Morning Program’ calendar when one of my colleagues shared the frightening news. In that moment there was so much uncertainty as to whether the event was accidental or intentional-and seventeen minutes later …we all knew.

I climbed the three floors to access the teacher’s room phone and call my friend whose husband worked there. Miraculously he survived and was making his way toward safety through a darkened and stunned city. A jet engine landing not far from his feet. In the hours and days ahead, we saw the names and faces of those who weren’t as fortunate – though trauma must have followed each person home.

My mother and brother and his family were returning from Alaska that day when the airspace closed and they had to shelter in place for some days. So many folks around the world with plans and lives interrupted and your instinct to gather the tribe was extinguished by forces beyond everyone’s control.

School took a pause as the nation collected itself from a visceral shock heard around the world- settling in the marrow of each of our bones. It was a time when we were reminded of all that is important along with all of the darkness that is possible in an often-volatile world.

The fear brought us closer – the instinctual inner force reminded us of all that is truly important in our lives rose to the surface and we held each other a little longer and wound our webs a little tighter and our eyes were reminded of each beautiful petal around us. Parents tossed baseballs a bit longer in the back yard and bedtime stories multiplied and lingered longer in the air. While the outside world felt frightening and uncertain our inner worlds became the source of hope and peace in the world.

When the school family gathered again for Morning Program, I remember the healing power of music and singing together. How our collective voices were restorative, and powerful -recovering a sense of unity and resolve. Songs were selected with care and through the gathering and the lyrics I could feel a renewed sense of community and safety and hope.

The loss of life, the families who hold onto unthinkable grief, the trauma of all those impacted and hope for a safe and sane world will never be forgotten. There may never be a time when tragedy doesn’t awaken our souls and remind us of all that is important in this tumultuous world. We hold onto the courage of all who responded to the call to help the recovery of a nation shocked by the unthinkable. And if for a time we could remember what brought us all together that day-then we will stand together forever changed.

And though none of them reached me personally I feel forever haunted by those last phone calls and the unsuspected final goodbyes. The not knowing - the always wondering. It has forever changed my comings and my goings, the pocket where I hold my phone close, and the words I choose when someone walks out the door on their way to work. Most certainly a day we will never forget-and a day we will always be reminded of what has always mattered.