Today is a different day. I can’t really find the right word for it. Different is what came out, but it’s also sad, quiet, somber, contemplative, questioning, remembering, difficult, and so much more.
I was in Colorado on September 11, 2001. I had a baby boy who had turned one exactly six days earlier. I was standing in our family room, behind the couch, when I answered the phone and was told by a friend to turn on the tv; that terrorist attacks were taking place all over the country. One of the moments Americans will never forget. I will never forget.
I grew up on the east coast, so I wondered who I knew. Did I know anyone on one of the flights? Or in the Pentagon? Or in the towers? I immediately thought of my high school friend, who had once worked in the Financial District in New York City. How many people did she know who were directly affected by the tragedy? I thought about the people on those planes and how incredibly scared they must have been. The brave responders who helped out in whatever ways they could (trained or not).
Today I’m mostly thinking about Rick Thorpe, because he turned out to be the one person I did know who was killed on 9/11. Of course, I’m thinking about all the victims, survivors, and families. But Rick I can put a face on. He grew up in my hometown and graduated from my high school in my sister’s class. Although I probably never had a conversation with Rick, I do remember him. He had a baby daughter, who I think about, and a wife, parents, siblings, friends.
Rick’s family and friends rose above the pain of losing him to this awful event, and created Rick’s Place. This is an organization that helps kids who have lost a loved one. I’ve known kids who have benefitted from programs like Rick’s Place, and I am comforted to think of all the kids – who shouldn’t have to experience such pain – who will learn, grow and succeed, because of Rick’s Place.
Recently I was at a meeting on one of the top floors of a huge hotel in Las Vegas, when the fire alarm sounded. I couldn’t take the elevator and I had no idea where the stairwells were. My mind flashed to what it must have been like for the people trapped in those towers on 9/11; not knowing whether to go up or down.
There was a post on facebook today about how having diabetes isn’t so bad when compared to something like 9/11. I couldn’t agree more. An event like 9/11 gives us perspective. Although diabetes definitely has its annoying and even sometimes scary moments, to me, it doesn’t come close to what I imagine was felt in airplanes, towers or Pentagon. I have the tools I need to make decisions about blood glucose, medications, exercise, and food. I wish we didn’t need this kind of reminder, but I hope we can learn from it.