Where were you on 9/11?...

[nolabear]

44. Believe it or not, that was my first day as a therapist. I was getting ready for work at an agency.

Nervous, you know, about what I was going into. I got the first shower and turned on The Today Show while my husband showered. It was just after the first plane hit, and we sat there as long as we could, going through the whole horror together.

I'll never forget that drive in to work, and the looks all we drivers exchanged as we drove. My feelings were reflected in every face, as if we were all one terribly wounded organism. At one point I found myself on the highway behind an enormous truck that I assume was carrying stage trappings, but with the logo and legend "Les Miserables" emblazoned across it. I couldn't help thinking, "Indeed. This is misery. This is profound suffering."

I didn't have a single client that day. Most didn't show up for anyone. We all sat in the receptionists' area around a little TV, trying to make sense of things until I went home. I remember the radio station I usually listen to playing an endless, uninterrupted list of sad, mournful songs. The one I recall most was Paul Simon's "American Tune". It seemed to fit. It still does.

I don't know a soul who's not been shattered
I don't know a friend who feels at ease.
I don't know a dream that's not been battered
or driven to its knees,
But I'm all right;
I'm all right,
For we've been so well so long,
Still, when I think of the road we're travelling on,
I wonder what's gone wrong.
I can't help it; I wonder what's gone wrong.

Peace, DU. I don't know if the road's gotten one bit better these long years after, but I have to have hope, and work for that hope. We can do better if we don't let hatred win.