9/11/06 I sat on my couch on the 4th floor at my apartment. At the cross of 6th Ave. Right smack in the middle of midtown. Tourist central. I worked at the Sheraton Ny on 52nd and 7th. My husband worked right around the corner. This was Our Neighborhood. 9/11 had come and I was off that day. I was watching the tributes, all the names of the victims read... as though I had any choice.. It has become something you do, in respect, and out of necessity if you live in NY. If you were a NYer, you keep the respect. You don't just pray for the responders, but you remember the others- the moms, dads, nannys, coaches, ... You just don't NOT get involved- in any way.. you get involved any way you can, even if it's just remembering their names that day.
So there I was, watching and crying. Listening and crying. Vacuuming and crying.... Finally, my sister Jennifer called to check on me. She lived up in New England at this point, but was well aware of what this event meant to me and all the rest of her people.
"Im ok.... <snifffle snifffle>>> "
Her: Are you crying?
Me: "yes... I've been crying for hours!!! I can't stop crying !" "I thought I was ok with myself and 9/11, but I cant get a handle on myself..."
Her: "have you taken a pregnancy test???"
Me: ummm, no.
Her: well go do that and stop crying.
Sure thing, JP was born just a little late that following May 2009 :)
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