On September 10, 2001, I had surgery on my right hand for my severe carpal tunnel, which had been misdiagnosed for 30 years (the term carpal tunnel did not exist when I became symtomatic), and on the morning of September 11th I was attempting to apply make-up with my wrong hand, for my post-op doctor appointment, when my sweetheart threw open the door to our bedroom, looked at the TV and asked me why I wasn’t watching the news, which was what I did every morning.  He grabbed the remote and changed the station, yelling something about a plane, towers, New York, just in time to see the second plane hit.  I was "medicated", even though it had been out-patient surgery, I was still in a fog and I had taken pain medication.  I just could not take in what was happening before my eyes.  We had a 30 minute drive to my doctor’s office, listening to a news station the entire trip, and not saying a word to each other.  I kept thinking that this had to be a dream, but upon entering my doctor’s crowded waiting room, we saw on the wall-mounted TV the first of the towers to fall.  Their were gasps, woefully cries, and suppressed curses from men, and so many tears, but still there was this silence.  I remember looking at the man I love and asking him to please tell me that it was the drugs they gave me that was making me see this horrendous site, but I could tell in his strong face, and the welling in his eyes, that it was all real. 

I was in the exam room with my doctor when the second tower failed - we could hear the reactions of the strangers in the waiting room, the same as when the first tower fell -  and one of his tears dropped on my bandaged hand before he was able to continue to re-dress my wound.  I just sat there crying silently, only nodding or shaking my head to his inquiries.

Later, I remember sitting in a grocery store parking lot while my man filled a prescription for me, and was buying what he thought were survival necessities, and listening to a CBS news radio station on a gray, muggy September day, feeling like that was the most surreal moment of my life.  When his 15 year old son came home from school that afternoon and saw for the first time the film of the collapse of the towers, his first remark was "Cool".  Despite my infirmity, I had to be physically restrained from choking that little ingrate.  He later apologized, but I realized this reality, this horror, was totally removed from his reality.

I ended up watching the tube non-stop for about 36 hours, crying the whole time (who knew that pain medication was like speed for me!).  I thought it was only fitting that for the next four days it rained, unrelentingly, flooding our country road, filling it with frogs, and seeing wildlife that had been displaced, some we had never seen.  Surreal is the only description I can come up with.

Finally, on Saturday evening, I was pursuaded to leave my vigil, as the rains had stopped, and go have a nice dinner.  No food has ever tasted as good as that meal, though it was not exceptional.  I realized that I had not tasted anything in five days, and it was as if my senses had been restored by the loving gesture my partner gave me by making me indulge in the good food I love so much.  I still wanted to feel guilty to be enjoying this simple pleasure when so many were suffering, but I finally figured out that I can grieve for all of those lost, but I cannot carry that grief, it’s not my right.

I have had a difficult time on this day every year since 2001. So many much more personal losses and crisises have presented in the ensuing years, loss of parents, my breast cancer, diagnosed at exactly the time my partner was taking a lucrative, supposedly short-term job out of state (he now has been laid off - 4+ years later).  But, I think what resounds in me after reading last year’s posts, and the ones that posted today, is that "loss of innocence", and I was about to turn 50 years old when this tragedy happened.  I had a wonderful, some would say ‘privedged’, childhood and a good education, but I also struggled as a single woman in businesses that paid less than my male cohorts.  Despite my growing cynicism, I think I still had a polly-anna attitude about the world when it was destroyed by what happened eight years ago.

The conspiracy theories are interesting, and I have read/seen many via my man.  I don’t want to be an ostrich, but I can hardly comprehend what happend eight years ago, much less wrap my head around the thought that some of "our people" were aware it was going to happened and failed to prevent it.  I really believe they did, and that only makes it harder for me to comprehend.

One true thing I have learned today:  the grief never leaves us.

The fifteen year old daughter of one of my oldest friends hung herself almost two years ago.  Two days earlier, she had tried to cut her wrists, and was sent home from the emergency room, after a psych consult, telling her and her mother that it had been a ‘half-hearted’ attempt, and without referring her to other treatment, sent her home and told her to return to school.  My dear friend came home to find her hanging, cut her down while calling 911 and trying to administer CPR.  She had been dead for some time. She was obviously not ‘half-hearted’ that time.

My point is to thank Dana for her candor and exposing her grief, and to WOW for posting this insightful, touching post.  My friend (since jr. high) is very accomplished and noted (published in professional journals) worldwide for her work in the mental health field.  Her devastating death is not only ironic to her, but has her questioning her ability to help others ("How can I presume to help other children after I missed what was going on with my own child."). 

I will be spending a week with her at her beach house next month, and have been anxious about discussing this tragedy with her.  I think I’ll just do what I did when I last saw her, less than two months after her daughter’s death, and just listen.  Only, this time around, I have a much better understanding that her grief is unrelenting, and that all I have to give her is my love and everlasting support.  I’m happy that she has found some peace by escaping from her demanding profession, and taking in the joys and healing that our wonderful beaches provide.

Another thing that Dana’s interview helped me with:  I had been looking at various venues to volunteer, and now I know where to put my efforts.  Thank you, again, Dana and WOW.

JO

Margo,

As always I am entertained with your wit, and am frankly appalled at the personal attacks on you by some of Palin’s flock.  In today’s New York Times, Ross Douthat noted the following in his editorial about Palin:

"In a recent Pew poll, 44 percent of Americans regarded Palin unfavorably. But slightly more had a favorable impression of her. That number included 46 percent of independents, and 48 percent of Americans without a college education."

That last half of the last sentence is very telling. Her defenders display no grasp of the reality that is Sarah Palin, and opt to shoot below the belt at anyone who questions her competence, or her ability to string a sentence together.  I hope you enjoyed a good guffaw when you were accused of being ‘jealous’ of Palin’s overblown payday for ‘her’ book, because I know I did.  (Someone obviously didn’t do their research about you either.)   To equate the best-sellers list with good literature is only reflective of the "American Idol" mentality that is pervasive in our society today.  If it’s (she’s) popular, it (she) must be great!

I, for one, just wish she would stay in the frozen outer territory and take care of her children and leave the rest of us alone.

 Also, everything tastes better when using the "wedding" (some 35 years ago and long over) silver flatware.  I, too, have gotten to the stage in life where "what am I waiting for?" has become my mantra.  Whether I’m dining alone - especially, when dining alone,  I always use the ‘good’ stuff and often even light candles.  Even ice cream tastes better - if that’s possible - out of a bone china bowl with a sterling silver spoon.  There is great pleasure in treating oneself so well.  

Julia, 

It’s wonderful to see you writing something more than answers to ‘questions of the day’ here at WOW, but I’m am truly amazed at the vitriol of some of the comments. 

Your remarks to the girls of Sacred Heart, about the perspective of age, and the recounting of your back porch sharing with Elizabeth, brought tears to my eyes.

I was truly angry at Edwards that he did not drop out of the primaries after his wife’s cancer returned and was deemed terminal (which some of the posters here seem to think does not mean certain, imminent,  death).   After having my last major surgery for breast cancer last June, my fifth in less than three years, it was inconceivable to me that he would even consider continuing his quest for the White House.  I did not believe, even when I saw her on television, that she was completely behind his bid - and she, supposedly, knew about his ‘one night stand’ at this point.

John Edwards hit the jackpot when he met the older, lovely Elizabeth while in law school.  The fact that she is brilliant, and probably coached him through his studies, as well as his law boards, was an added bonus.  He came from very humble roots, and his good looks, athletic prowess, and his intelligence (savvy?) took him a long way from home.  Elizabeth elevated him to entirely different neighborhood.

This extraordinary woman helped him establish a very lucrative career as a personal injury lawyer, while raising their, then, two children, and helped him pursue a political career.  They had a horrible tragedy when they lost their son.  She did a very risky thing to have fertility treatments in order to have their two younger children at age 48 and 50.  There has been much speculation that these treatments contributed to her developing her cancer.  Of course, I’ve been told that by taking HRT, after having a hysterectomy at 42, that I caused the breast cancer that was found at 53 (after clear mammograms every year since I was 40).

While I’m not crazy about the idea of this book (but everyone seems to want to know), I think Elizabeth is only thinking about her children’s future.  She is refusing to publicly say anything too negative about the father of her children, because she doesn’t want them to feel rancor or hate for what their father did.  I truly think she is making sure that their future will be secure (as in all proceeds of her book will go to them).  Sure, she could care less about his ‘love child’s’ parentage.  It really does not affect her, but I am sure that by her restraint in interviews and in her book, she getting some guarantee that her children will not suffer financially from their father’s indiscretions.  I think that it is obvious that the other woman and her child have been living the good life, certainly from funds funnelled through Edwards’ associates.

Let’s not, as women, judge Elizabeth Edwards.  If her husband’s continued presence in her life, her home, as a caretaker for her, and father to her young children - who will soon lose their mother - is working for her, then let her be. 

Thank you, Julia, for a thoughtful look as this very tragic, very modern drama.

Joanne

PS - Couldn’t get reservations at the the Monteleone during the holidays (booked for a wedding), but we had a cocktail there and admired the lovely red cyclamens in the window boxes.  Will make every effort to return!  Thanks for the heads-up.