Where was I during this moment in history? At home, getting ready for school, putting on way to much makeup. My sister’s boyfriend called us, said to turn on the TV, I did and with in seconds saw the second plane hit the Twin Towers. Instinctively I dialed my brothers number even though I knew he was in New Jersey, mile away from Manhattan.
My dad went to New York to visit my brother a month and half after 9/11. Walking around the city he said you could still smell burning flesh and feel the pain as you locked eyes with a passerby on the street.
When this post first formed in my mind last week and as I discussed it with my friend Misha on Friday, I had a more elaborate formulations and deep ideas about what I wanted to say. But, after talking with friend and family all weekend and going to a 9/11 memorial, I find it hard to write.