My heart hurts. For many years, I have turned down jobs that would have me working back in the Wall Street Financial area of NYC. I lost the love of my life and friends on 9/11 and couldn’t quite fathom passing the site where the towers and so many lives were destroyed.
But after 5,321 days – 14 years, 6 months, and 26 days – I find myself working back on Wall Street. I have to work. It’s a great opportunity and I am hoping it helps me heal more and keep moving forward. But today was hard, very hard. I have been taking a long route to the Path train, avoiding the new WTC Transportation Hub Oculus as much as I can but today I got a little turned around, there is still so much construction near the area – so I found myself on a different side street, having to pass the Memorial’s teflecting pools. It took the air out of my lungs. I couldn’t breathe for a while. It was beautiful yet so sad. I didn’t go looking for their names but then I passed one, and then another. My knees buckled. And even as I write these words I can’t stop crying. My heart and soul aches. Chastising myself to grow up, to be strong can’t seem to stop the tears. I saw a line of people waiting to go into the museum and all I kept thinking is why do people want to gawk at remnants of that fateful day. I am so confused, so torn, in so much pain. My thoughts are jumbled, my emotions raw. I want to scream. I want everyone to leave. I want the 2,606 people who perished there to rest in peace. I am trying to understand.
I am at a crossroads. All around me are crowds of people, rushing about their day and I find myself glued to the spot where my forever heart’s name is engraved. I am numb, yet shaking. I wanted someone to pinch me or drag me away. I needed to get away. I could not.
It was all so surreal. I stopped crying. I swear the winds spoke to me. The sun went behind clouds. And I knew at that precise second, he was there. Trying to help me. I felt a calm come over me. I tried to take photos but seeing them now – all were blurry from my hand shaking. I can never go back in that direction. I will never go into the museum. I will never forget. But I live the horrors each and every day, I don’t need to see it come alive for me anymore.
I must apologize for the rambling. I am trying really hard to express myself but I am feeling lost. My mind muddled like its trying to recall and forget all at the same time. I don’t want to feel so defeated, so lost.
I placed flowers, I prayed, I slowly walked away and then the tears started again. Leaving yet another piece of my heart there, I boarded the Path with my heart beating so loudly, grace in my step, hope in my heart, tears in my eyes, and a prayer on my lips…missing my forever heart.