I Remember




 Yesterday was the NYPD-FDNY 2022 Heroes Baseball Classic at New York Boulders Baseball.  

Though the cliche is that time is supposed to heal all wounds, it does not. 

Each year, prior to the baseball game, there is a tribute to fallen members of service, including the those lost on September 11, 2001.  It has not become any easier.  In fact it has become more difficult.  I can usually make it through the tribute to some degree, with one of the tough parts listening to something along the lines of “And our thoughts are with those who still suffer from illness today.”

I was once able to watch the documentaries and the memorial services, now it has become something I have difficulty doing.  I tried to watch Come From Away on TV.  I couldn’t make it through it and had to turn it off.  I did not go to work that day because I was flying out to clean out my Mom’s apartment because she had just passed away.  But I spent many days afterwards at the office, which was a few blocks away, during the next 9 months.  

I remember exactly where I was when I heard the news.  

I remember going into the building where I worked shortly after September 11, 2001 to retrieve some things from the office and seeing the desks in the lobby with IV bottles next to them.  

I remember one man who started speaking with me in an elevator about a month later and broke down asking me “Will things ever be normal again?”  I knew the answer was “No,” as he started tearing up.   But I could not bring myself to say that, it was too harsh.  I replied “I am not sure, but I don’t think so.”   And, today, I am not sure whether that was a better response.

I remember trying to find out news of family and friends, including members of FDNY & NYPD.   I remember going to the ceremony arranged at a park shortly after September 11, 2001  and seeing some people for the first time.   A lot of tears and hugs.

And then in 2015, September 11, 2001 manifested itself in the form of #cancer   I was going to  #NeverForget before that.  And will not now.  

My WTC health program card and the images etched in my mind, including a series of photographs  I took from the south side of the building I worked in, ensure I never will.

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