Reflections

Earlier this summer I visited the World Trade Center Memorial in Lower Manhattan for the first time. I had been thinking about it for a while, but it didn't exactly scream fun family activity, if you know what I mean. I really wanted to go alone to see the reflection pools where the towers stood and read the names.  I have a lot of very vivid memories of 9/11 and I really wanted to allow those emotions to work themselves out however they needed to without worrying about my kids seeing me upset.  Not that being sad or crying in front of them is something I try to hide, but this just felt different. I didn't know how I would explain it.  They are still too young to really understand the enormity of what happened that day.  So when my friend Federica came to visit, I thought it was the perfect excuse to make the trip without the kids.  Fede lived in New York City in 2000, the year before the towers fell.  She was interning at the UN when she met her soul mate that summer.  A decade later and they are living in Italy with their son Pablo and life has moved on in so many new and wonderful directions. But for both of us, New York City is a special place.  I knew she would be the right person to share this visit with and she was.  For me, it was important to make this pilgrimage of sorts and give myself a chance to revisit that day.  I expected a rush of emotion, but in fact, what I felt was a strange serenity. I was overcome with the silence of the place, especially considering how many other people were there.  I read the names and touched the spray of water blowing back against the wind.  I looked up to the new Freedom Tower which disappeared in the heavy clouds that day and thought of all those who had perished in those same heights.  There was still disbelief, but the rage and sadness were not as raw.  It was good to see the progress of the past 12 years and know that this wound on our beloved city is finally healing. It was exactly the kind of tribute I hoped for, and I spent a good long while soaking up the calming energy of the rushing water.  The roar was quiet, yet deafening.  I was transfixed and content to stare deep into the abyss of the pools, never quite seeing the bottom. It was an amazing afternoon.