8 years ago today, on 9/11, what were you doing?
My alarm didn't go off that morning. I didn't get up, drink coffee and watch the news that morning as usual. Instead, I woke up late, rushed through a shower and ran out the door. I heard about the towers as soon as I turned on the car. Half way to work, news about the Pentagon came across the radio, and I don't remember the rest of the drive. My uncle worked at the Pentagon.
There was no work to be done at my job that day. No one was calling to order catalog items that day. I left early, came home, called my grandmother, called my husband, called my parents... just needing to connect with someone.
It was several hours before anyone heard from my uncle, but he was fine. My cousin had been maybe a block away and heard the plane go down. Her account of that morning is chilling, as is anyone's who witnessed it, I'm sure.
I watched the news until the towers fell, and couldn't watch anymore. The Golden Girls played all day on another channel, and they stayed on my screen as I cleaned my whole house from top to bottom. There was a continuous stream across the bottom of that channel telling us to turn to our news network to learn about the devastating attack, but I didn't do that. I vacuumed the carpets over and over and over, losing myself in the monotony and normalness of that single daily chore. The loudness was somehow comforting, drowning out a few of my thoughts, burying some of the fears about what would happen next. I didn't care how clean my house was, really, it was just the only thing I could control that day.
I remember not wanting to know anymore. I remember wanting to go back in time just a few hours, to not feel anxious, to not worry about what inexplicable catastrophe might hit us next. I remember wanting to hide under my bed, but I didn't.
How did you cope?
Six Word Saturday #420
6 hours ago