Six Years Today

Perhaps September 11, 2001 is like our generation's JFK assassination. "Where were you when the towers were hi,?" New Yorkers sometimes ask each other. Of course I remember exactly where I was when I heard, exactly what I thought, exactly what I did afterwards. Now it has been six years.

As I watched a couple hours of the name reading today, my heart went out to the thousands of families of the victims. Some of them seemed as pained as ever. Of course, I know what it is like to lose someone to a senseless tragedy. On a day like today, Hannah is such a part of my thoughts that I almost don't feel alone. Her death, her absence are weights I wear as I wade through the day. Gray skies reinforce the sobriety of the day.

As I'm sure the September 11th families feel of their lost ones, every new experience is a question for me - what would Hannah have thought about this? What would she have said? When I see a movie, I wish I could call her up to discuss it. When I'm excited, my first thought is still to call her to share. When I have a few extra minutes on the upper west side, my reflex is still to ask her if she wants to meet me at the Starbucks on 93rd Street. I don't cry every day anymore, but on some level I think I will never completely accept or understand that Hannah is gone. It doesn't seem possible, it doesn't seem right and it doesn't seem to serve any purpose.