I am really not sure how I have floated through life thus far without feeling so incredibly hard about what I am doing and who I am. I’m one of those people who falls and just figures, oh well, get back up and do it again. And hey, that’s worked thus far. I have a self made career that has allowed me to be with my kids and add income to my home. I enjoy what I do. But I think it’s time to move forward. I’m ready to do something with my life before I’m old and grey. I’m ready to feel needed in a work environment. I’m simply not getting that right now. I think my husband is too. 15 years for the same company at the same job, he has a BA and still only makes a pittance and unless something changes, we are pretty much done for. Not being the types to rely on others to make changes for us we are ready to come to terms with this part of life. We have only 8 years until our last one jumps the roost.
But I have a problem, nothing out of the ordinary for students I guess. But I have decided to go back to school, I actually decided last year and thus began the issue of deciding what I wanted to do. I’ve this long list of possibilities. On one half I want to travel after retirement, maybe I can get a teaching degree and do TEFL when I’m ready. But I love nature, not just a little but almost to the point where in a misplaced state I could theoretically live off the land. I have an innate understanding of ecology and have considered this immensely. However 8 years in college will make me 43 at graduation and the 5 more years to get experience. 48? That might be a tough age for a newbie in the workforce. And finally Graphic design, I don’t really love it, but I don’t hate it. I understand it, it’s like clock work for the basic stuff right now. I can already do layouts and logos, create spreads and so on and so forth. I really wish my brain would let me decide, so I can get on with it already! 🙂
35, it’s like being halfway across a bridge with a forest fire on the side you just left. You really want to go back, or hell , enjoy the view from the middle, but inevitably you have to go forward.
The images, were not yet real, how could something so terrible ever be real? I could not wrap my brain around, how such monstrosities could be played outside of a movie.
My heart sunk, and the pit of my stomach lifted. Images pulled from some sort of hell, rolled before my eyes. My spine rigid and pin pricks upon my arms, I began to cry. What other emotion is appropriate?
I couldn’t stand to sit alone in my house any longer, so I wandered over to my Best friend who lived next door. Her husband sat watching a fishing show on cable TV. “did you hear about the twin towers?” Yeah, he said, but I think it was the pentagon” ” Yeah, that was hit too, Both towers, the pentagon and a plane somewhere else.” I said, he turned the Tv to the local station and we all watched as “the world” came crashing down.
Later, when the monotony of the images played in our minds, I went outside to smoke a cigarette. The air seemed thick, like everyone was breathing a little bit harder and worry clung to it, pulling all the sounds closer to the ground. What sounds that there were , which was not many. A silence had crept beneath the thick air. Shock has an awful way of traveling to the smallest cracks in the tiniest places and that is what this was, pure shock. I saw the people, they came forth from their homes looking to the sky, maybe for an answer, maybe for hope, whatever reason was answered by 2 jets speeding across the sky. Back and forth they went and the people watched like their steel bodies were the hands of god, protecting them in their hour of need, truly they were.
And yet, though “the gods” graced our skies the silence still held even on to the blare of the jets always, under everything, was the silence. So we returned to our television sets, watching the images, craving more so that we might know more, we might know that our loved ones were ok, that our friends made it out and that a complete stranger was rescued. But we were met only by death and sorrow. Still we watched, television with out happy commercials, people speaking to each other only to break up the silence.
But then little by little, hope emerged, slowly at first, they appeared as earthly angels, some in rags, some in suits, uniforms and laymen’s clothing and then hope became prevalent, they emerged from nowhere, carrying with them on their shoulders, hope, love, pride and determination. It would be these men and women who would bring us from the silence, who would again teach us to speak from their sorrows, and would teach us to sing from the tragedies.
September 11th 2008 dawned much like September 11th 2001. The sky was a blue that would rival that of only the oceans, the people hurried about their days. But still the silence could be felt under the normal hustle bustle. Here and there, you could find reminders that we still live that day. Flags Half Mast and today 600 motorcyclists drove down the main thoroughfare to honor the memories of those who were lost.
We were wounded that day, but like any scar that is ours to bare, we wear it with pride and with a somber bravery, that IF there is ever a next time it will be so much different.
I hope that everyone took a moment to remember today. Much love to you my friends. “