9-11-2011 Those Still Standing

This post is about 9-11-2001 and my own experience as I faced a life-threatening illness.

Today we honor the many people who lost their lives ten years ago. The number was many and the effect of those losses live on for their families and friends and America as a whole. 9-11 was shock to our country, because it reminded everyone it only takes a minute or an hour or a day for lives to altered forever and your sense of security and well-being to taken away. This happened to our country on that day and it happened to me personally.

Today, I am not writing of the many people who lost their lives that day. I truly grieve this loss as do so many others. Today, I am writing of the survivors. I realize today is not a day about me. It is about the true fallen and the true survivors, but my experiences during that time mirror this time of tragedy.

On 9-11-2001 I wasn’t in New York or on one of the airplanes, or in the World Trade Center that day. And I do not claim to know the horrors experienced by those brave people who were sacrificed or even the suffering of their families and friends watching and listening as their loved ones died.

However, I am a survivor of 9-11-2001. I was personally betrayed, not by others who came at me from the outside, but by my own body which attacked me. My analogy would be that the life I had constructed came crashing down around me and I had to suffer the initial shock of realizing I had no control or security, then take what I could to rebuild my life. My life changed forever that day, I nearly died from the effects, and it took me years to recover from the initial contact with my life. 9-11-2001 was the last day I remember before I began my own fight from my life. The last thing I remember is a television shot of the first tower that was hit. The next thing I remember was November 26. I have often thought that even though I was conscious at times during these months, I was like the actual survivors and families-going forward in a daze. I imagine many of them don’t remember much from this time period either.

To summarize-I was at home when the first airplane hit the tower. That was unusual, since I should have been at school teaching my 8th grade Literature students. I had been sick for a couple of days with flu like symptoms. Later my family and friends would talk about some of our personal interactions and realize I had been behaving strangely for a few weeks. To this day medical officials cannot explain exactly what was wrong with me. “Non-specific encephlatic type disorder of an unknown source,” translates to “We don’t know what you had,” and further, “We don’t why you had it,” and finally to “We don’t know why you are alive today.”

But I am alive. And I have asked the questions. Why did this have to happen to me? What did I do wrong to deserve this? Will I ever get better? And in some my darker days as I realized how my life had changed forever, I even questioned if I wanted to be here.

And I think this is what many of people who survived the “real” 9-11 have questioned themselves. Why was the America the target? Why did they survive? How can they live with what has happened? Why did they survive when so many others did not? And on the days when the realities of being the ones to survive were overwhelming, I believe many of them may have questioned whether they wanted to survive.

Surviving is hard. It is better than not surviving. And for that reason I hope all of the survivors and families and friends who are still here have found the gratitude to appreciate what a wonder gift life is in general.

But again, surviving is hard. For myself, I had to physically recover and accept that I would never be where I was before. I had to learn to walk again and build my endurance and strengthen my memory and literally get to the point where I could make sense. During those months of illness my family had to watch as I became sicker to the point of almost dying and so altered that I was not myself. They were told on more than one instance to prepare for me to die and finally told that the “essence” or personality that was “me” was gone forever. Even now, I live with a body that sometimes betrays me with effects from my illness. I also live with the knowledge that my life span will most likely be shorter.

But I survived. And I have come back not to where I was before, but to a level that can be fulfilling. What a gift to me the last ten years have been! I can walk and I can teach and I can joke and I can love and be loved by my family and friends. I have enjoyed my years with my husband and my mother and my siblings and friends. I have seen my children become adults. I have experienced the joys of my grandchildren. My oldest grandchild was a baby when I was sick and my youngest not even born. These ten years have made it, so they KNOW me and I KNOW them. I have taught over 1000 students and helped them on their difficult journey through adolescence. And I have known joy.

America has survived too. It hasn’t been easy. There have been mistakes. There have been set-backs. There has been much pain. But there has been forward motion. There has been understanding. There has been joy.

Today, cry tears for all that we lost on 9-11-2011. Remember their sacrifices.

Remember those who survive.

Today is the day!

Good Morning Writing World!

A short post before I go off to slay some writing dragons...on this case a little girl and a momma bunny. (And for any censors I am only slaying things in a literary sense. No real humans or animals were harmed in this writing experience.)

I took some time these past two weeks to review in my head what I have already written and think about some holes I have in the novel concerning plot and character development. I also have been debating how to address the first chapter and make it match the mood of the novel as I needed to and how to SHOW more about the characters without giving too much back story at the beginning. Both are very important concepts to master.

And I have been inspired by my grandchildren's love of animals to add some and use this kind of love as a defining characteristic for someone.

Slowly, but surely I am figuring out how to get those layers in there.

I think I have figured out how to go forward, so today I write. And with the weeks I have had at work, I found it much easier to hypothetically plan characters' demises. And people wonder what motivates authors to find their ideas. :o(

May the mayhem begin!

Okay, I have to fold a load of towels first. Writers lead such glamorous lives.
But then definitely mayhem.

May you find the mayhem or peace you seek today!