September 12, 2001

The day after our country was attacked by terrorists, and there are still not enough words to describe how I feel and I'm sure everyone in the world feels the same way. To make an incredibly long story short, four planes were hijacked, two crashed into World Trade Center in NY, one into the Pentagon, and one grounded (but crashed as well) south of Pittsburgh. The United States of America was attacked. It all started at 8:46 a.m. EST. I turned on the news at 9:25 to a picture of the Twin Towers of the WTC, each with enormous gaping holes in the sides from where the airplanes had struck. As I watched in horror and disbelief, the first and then the second tower collapsed, killing who knows how many people. Meanwhile, the Pentagon was also struck by and airplane killing and injuring so many. Luckily, the fourth plane crashed before it got anywhere critical.

What shocks me the most was the fact that this was...well, that it did happen. Corey was innocently playing and toddling around while I watched all of this happen with tears in my eyes. He would look up at me and laugh while I tried not to break down and cry at what I saw. I still don't know what to say. It was so surreal to watch, and when I woke up this morning, the realities of the situation slowly hit me. Immediately, I recalled all of what I saw and heard all day yesterday. All the death and destruction, fear, and especially fear just amazed me.

September 15, 2001

"Are we up to this?"
The newscaster questioned the generation I live in, the amount of Patriotism we feel for this country. Do we have the knowledge and innocence of the way we have been raised--MTV and such shows that "bring together" the age group that I happen to fall under. But I realize how little we can cope with this callenge before us. Why do we get ruled out? It's like they don't trust us. Like a parent who has raised his child to believe that anything is possible and we can have virtually anything we want when we want it. We can be cynical if we want and make cracks at the TV, but any way we look at it, it's war.

The second I turned the channel to the network station of my choice, there it was: right before my eyes was the country, losing face as it burned and crumpled down. We curse as the cnn.com webpage fails to download in three seconds or less. However, we can't understand why there isn't any more news than there was five minutes ago...so we click "Refresh" once more.

It's like changing the channel to find something, but it's nothing but info-mercials trying to sell me my soul. Urging me to sacrifice my blood and give my heart for free. They say we saw it coming...that we should have seen the signs.

"The information was out there."

But--it wasn't put all pretty in a package-deal commercial with my favorite rock star singing that song I just downloaded off of WinMX that my online friend recommended personally just last week...

"Does it drive you crazy that you can't know everything at once...you need to have patience."

I don't regret anything until now. Sure, I turn it to the news a little more than, well, ever in my entire life. It's like you're watching your favorite soap opera, but it's on 24 hours a day, whenever you want it, but we "still don't know!" We aren't even used to watching and not being able to know who did it and why and when did he start planning this...?

"Do you feel it drives you crazy not to have any resolutions or certain truths for more than five days?"

I get impatient at certain times, but it's just stupid to be so anal as to curse when it will be another five minutes before you can rest your haunches on a padded booth in non-smoking. We stare in disbelief, however as they say this may take years. And then it makes sense as you hear the number of lay-offs that commercial airlines have planned to make.

But you know what makes me feel ill? All of the other disasters that would have made national news that only get a sound bite during a lull in the newscast:

A quick little blip and then the rest of the sports announcements for cancelled games. They hold out flags and have prayer vigils and tributes to support the dead and back up the country. We sing the anthem and wipe our eyes.

No one trusts anyone unless they put a dollar in the bucket or open their veins. They insist we pray, but I say we meditate on the dozens of reasons we could have done something even more important before those holes blew into the "Twins."

A test of unity. A test of patience. We find comfort in those voids where we just get numb to some more tragic and heart-wrenching stories how they wish more than anything just "to hear her voice again," but we just can't understand the pain of loss and why we have no answers. We're passionate about retribution and retaliation and we examine the similarities between this and that. As we dig through the streets of Manhatten, we dig into our minds and hearts and souls and try to find more answers. More and more of us are slowly changing our faces and think maybe our plans aren't wise at all. It's a phobia of death and change. Unfortunately, it's a fact of nature that you must break down before you rebuild. With change, it's all been give and take, and how else are we going to give and take before we understand?

"We weren't at risk."

And now we are. We're vulnerable and naive. But it's human and natural. Will this be the ultimate test? Should we question every 25-year-old Iraqi man who looks suspicious because he's boarding a plane? We thought it sucked when they took away our sharp objects and wallet chains..."wear belts and tuck in your shirts." Trench coats don't looks so scary anymore, do they? But the power plant is right up the street.

You know what's funny? Judgement Day. But you're spinning around and disoriented as to which direction you will be led divinely into heaven like you chose before the congregation, wearing that new suit your auntie gave you special for that day. So which direction is which? We ask our elders to guide us to answers, but we've trained our minds to add 2 + 2, not realizing that the national anthem is in 2/4. We try to work out each piece mathematically but don't have the power to express out the anger. We claim inner peace but are ok with that country's eye for the eye they stole from us. They pulled the plug all over our economic sink. You know, there's a filter over the hole, but the biggest get through first.

What's funny is that we've resorted to "reality TV" that most of America scoffed at and laughed at while five ordinary people competed for a box full of money. "Oh I wanted him to win." We can't vote on this. We can't log on to mtv.com and click on our favorite final outcome, and yet it's like a choose-your-own-adventure that you get to cheat at. The hints are in the stars and in the numbers...but the candles aren't enough to bring you peace of mind to sleep, hiding from your dreams of leading your child through a sheltered life.

I have my son to think about. His world has changed for me. He's been alive and in our home. But it's now that I recall how 13, yes, 13 months ago, to the day, Tuesday, my husband and I brought our Corey home. He's gone the full moon cycles, and now I just weep for him. It makes me frightened to bring another pixie-child into this world. It's going to be hard enough trying to plan those "talks" with my first-born, reminding me that pretty soon the most important thing on his mind will be learning how to use his spoon. How will I tell him about when I was a young woman? How I was raised to appreciate the freedom we'd begun to mock...