Ten years ago, so many things changed.
As many of you know, the father of my children was in the Towers when they went down on that fateful day. We had not been married for many years, but I had worked hard to try and keep the relationship strong and open for my children to someday have their own relationships with him.
My own father died that year, two months and four days after 9.11.
Yesterday was my youngest child's birthday, his 27th. He has made so much progress, and is such a source of inspiration to me. He now talks to his father on the phone on a regular basis and that in and of itself is a small miracle.
I am going to repost my original tribute, as I think it still rings true:
This day finds me deeply conflicted. I share a birthday and a point of view with Ghandi. It is a beautiful day, clear blue sky, just as it was on that other September eleventh. The father of my children was in the Towers that morning. Working. Due to a miraculous confluence of events he was thirty feet ahead of the falling debris. He turned around and went back in. We did not hear from him for three days. The children KNEW with a certainty I cannot explain,that he had somehow survived.That he was Working. When the call finally came this is what he said when I asked him what we could do:
"Do the work that needs to be done. Kiss the kids for me. I have to go back in and dig."
He went back in and hauled more body parts in buckets. Searched futilely for any signs of life. Worked round the clock shifts until he was forced to stop. Took a shower, got a few hours rest. Could barely breathe due to injuries he sustained....Kept working anyway. Finally accepted the orders to cease the rescue efforts and called in the bulldozers. Kept working anyway. Filled out the paperwork at the doctor's office and waited in line to discover the extent of his own wounds. Went right back to work. Got a new tatoo. It says NEVER FORGET.
This is the work he is CALLED to do. It is difficult, dangerous,heart wrenching work. He loves it. If you are wandering through your lifedoing something you hate, or maybe just tolerate....coming home and dulling the pain with your drug of choice....wondering if there is some purpose to life. YES. Whatever it is that you understood you were born to do when you were still too young to "know better"....If somewhere deep in your heart you KNOW are a writer or a painter or a teacher or a healer......maybe a firefighter or an ER doc....Go forth into the world and "do the work that needs to be done".
My response to him was:
"Ten-four DUDE, you're a HERO! straight up."
Blessings to you and yours, as always.
Greta: Is this you? You and your family are even more amazing than I realized? I did not think it was possible. How do I get on your blog roll? I would like to receive regular posts.
I love you, dear Greta.
jean xox
jyatesnewyork@aol.com
Posted by: www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=560503627 | September 13, 2011 at 05:49 PM