If there’s one lesson September imparts, it’s the realization that moments should be experienced fully rather than merely commemorated.
On a leisurely Saturday morning during Labor Day weekend, I find myself in a serene domestic scene: my eldest child nestled in bed with a book, my daughter engrossed in building creations with Legos, and my youngest flipping through picture books beside me as I fold laundry. Meanwhile, my spouse is at the gym. I sip a warm cup of coffee while sunlight bathes the room, with soothing melodies playing softly in the background. In this moment, everything feels harmonious and complete.
Yet, an unease stirs within me. I recognize this sensation, a familiar tension that accompanies moments of bliss. Perhaps I have learned to expect that when life feels exceptionally good, it is often followed by an impending fall. This instinct may have been honed during my tumultuous early adulthood. Each generation faces pivotal tragedies that shape its youth. For our parents, the assassinations of JFK, Martin Luther King Jr., and Robert Kennedy marked their formative years; for us, it is the events of 9/11.
That autumn, I discovered the isolating reality of living in Manhattan—how being on an island can complicate access to support during crises. I learned to maintain hope, even when evidence suggested otherwise, as the act of nurturing hope often outweighs the harsh truths we face. I came to terms with the fact that misfortune can befall kind-hearted individuals on seemingly perfect days.
If you ask anyone about their memories from that fateful Tuesday in 2001, they will likely recall the weather—a crystal-clear September morning, neither too hot nor too cold, with a bright blue sky occasionally dotted with clouds. To this day, such idyllic days send a chill down my spine, forever linking perfection with a sense of impending doom.
I arrived in Manhattan just days before that tragic event, on September 8, 2001. In the wake of chaos, a “new normal” emerged so swiftly that the memory of how things once were faded almost immediately. It became commonplace to ride the subway, where “missing” posters plastered walls. I would ponder the faces on those signs, wondering if I had crossed paths with them just days prior, grappling with the haunting reality that many would never be found.
As a single individual navigating life in the city, I was like many New Yorkers—creating a semblance of normalcy amid uncertainty. The thin, unsettling line of fate lingered in my thoughts, reminding me that life often exists in the past tense. In the relentless march of time, few emerge unscathed.
As both an individual and a parent, 9/11 imparted profound lessons. It underscored our shared mortality and the capricious nature of existence. When reflecting on these themes, I often feel paralyzed by fear. Yet, gazing at my three children—each filled with potential and needs—I struggle with how to love them without being haunted by what has been lost or what could lie ahead.
However, the tragedy also taught me the importance of not overanalyzing each moment, of cherishing experiences for what they are—neither the beginning nor the end of anything. I have learned that change is inevitable; another “new normal” is always lurking just around the corner. The tides of life shift rapidly, leaving little room for nostalgia. Ultimately, what truly matters are the connections and truths we hold dear today.
As I see my spouse’s vehicle pull into the driveway, we share one of those unspoken conversations that couples often have—he senses my anxiety and understands my need for fresh air and a change of scenery, encouraging me to move past the moment before I spiral into overthinking. Sometimes, we rely on loved ones to help us navigate, reminding us that the quality of a moment is less significant than the presence of someone who cares enough to help us move forward.
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In summary, the events of September 11 have shaped our collective consciousness, teaching us about the fragility of life and the importance of embracing the present. While change is inevitable, it is our connections and experiences that define our journey through life.