story566.xml
Title
story566.xml
Source
born-digital
Media Type
story
Date Entered
2002-05-08
911DA Story: Story
10/4/02
I cannot let go of my grief so easily. I don't know if I want to let it go. I have been changed. Deeply. Profoundly. Unspeakably.
When I am at home alone, I still am caught by sudden tears. The news sets me off. Remembering locations in Manhattan stops me in the kitchen . . . the bathroom. I think back to September 11, 12, 13, and I cry somewhere between grief and stoicism. Days of tears. Swollen eyes. Heavy lids. Bloodshot rims. When will the muscle over my left eye stop jumping?
And there is the guilt. The guilt of being a New Yorker, and not being in New York in this terrible crisis. I had to turn my eyes away from the television, away from the flatness of the grief on the faces of rescue workers.
And worse, the news makes a show, a farce of it all, less than a month later. Red, white and , blue poodles? A young skates in Rockefeller Center on the morning news in memoriam to a brother who died in WTC. He?s dead. This isn?t for him. It?s her 15 minutes of fame.
My students in class are acting out. Beyond stressed concerning midterms. Excessively verba. Laughing raucously about things that are not funny. Slowing down the assignments for them . . . for me.
Sometimes I sit in my car at a stop sign, forgetting I am in my car. I?ve had the right of way at least twice and have lost time. My mind is on New York.
I worried about my cousin Denise who works 4-5 blocks from ground zero (what a name for a place that was once busy and vibrant ? worked in Bankers Trust Plaza during highschool and undergrad). She had to return to work a week after the devastation because she works for board of ed/city. I talked to her about coming home for Thanksgiving. She got upset. Didn?t want me to get on a plane. She said she was afraid. I will broach the subject again later when all of this isn?t so raw.
One of Denise?s children, Christina is dealing with all this in her own way. She?s 15. She said everyone was crying at her school. She described it calmly (though I know she?s been crying based on discussions with her mother). Children shouldn?t have to experience such things.
I cannot let go of my grief so easily. I don't know if I want to let it go. I have been changed. Deeply. Profoundly. Unspeakably.
When I am at home alone, I still am caught by sudden tears. The news sets me off. Remembering locations in Manhattan stops me in the kitchen . . . the bathroom. I think back to September 11, 12, 13, and I cry somewhere between grief and stoicism. Days of tears. Swollen eyes. Heavy lids. Bloodshot rims. When will the muscle over my left eye stop jumping?
And there is the guilt. The guilt of being a New Yorker, and not being in New York in this terrible crisis. I had to turn my eyes away from the television, away from the flatness of the grief on the faces of rescue workers.
And worse, the news makes a show, a farce of it all, less than a month later. Red, white and , blue poodles? A young skates in Rockefeller Center on the morning news in memoriam to a brother who died in WTC. He?s dead. This isn?t for him. It?s her 15 minutes of fame.
My students in class are acting out. Beyond stressed concerning midterms. Excessively verba. Laughing raucously about things that are not funny. Slowing down the assignments for them . . . for me.
Sometimes I sit in my car at a stop sign, forgetting I am in my car. I?ve had the right of way at least twice and have lost time. My mind is on New York.
I worried about my cousin Denise who works 4-5 blocks from ground zero (what a name for a place that was once busy and vibrant ? worked in Bankers Trust Plaza during highschool and undergrad). She had to return to work a week after the devastation because she works for board of ed/city. I talked to her about coming home for Thanksgiving. She got upset. Didn?t want me to get on a plane. She said she was afraid. I will broach the subject again later when all of this isn?t so raw.
One of Denise?s children, Christina is dealing with all this in her own way. She?s 15. She said everyone was crying at her school. She described it calmly (though I know she?s been crying based on discussions with her mother). Children shouldn?t have to experience such things.
Collection
Citation
“story566.xml,” September 11 Digital Archive, accessed December 15, 2025, https://911digitalarchive.org/items/show/16124.