Whispers and Ghosts...

This morning started like a beautiful (not yet) autumn day should start. Heavy thick gray cotton clouds shrouding away the warmth from the sunshine, while a stiff breeze carried with it the certain to settle in chill in the air. Autumn is soon to arrive, but not without a massive hurdle to jump.

Sunday morning- the emotions started. The ten year anniversary of a day that changed the world as we know it as well as myself is fast approaching this coming Sunday. All ready the "children of 9-11", "stories of 9-11- 10 years remembered", and "faces of 9-11, ten years later" television specials have started to air or are being teased by the news networks. Teasing... that's what it is. Actually- its more of a toying, to me personally. My tears started to flow as CBS Sunday Morning aired more then a few segments based on the hallmark year this is for the tragedy of 10 years passed.

This, will no doubt, be the hardest and longest week I will go thru. Images from that day, voice from that day will be splashed across the television at every given opportunity this week, and with it- every haunting moment I lived through in Washington D.C. that day will creep out and nibble at my resolve. I cried this morning, briefly, before turning off the television when I realized what they were speaking of. I am not trying to hide from it on purpose because that would be foolish to try to do. It is tattooed on my right forearm and every day I look in the mirror- hoping to catch a glimpse of the innocence I lost on that day. I simply cannot hide from it.

My plans for celebrating/remembering that day have changed. I was going to buy a couple packs of Winston cigarettes (the only kind I had to smoke that day) and a bottle of Jim Beam (the fifth I drank in an hour and never felt) and silently look at the pictures, magazines, newspaper clippings, and watch the DVD of CBS coverage from that day. Now... as per my Hubby's wishes, I will be at one of the largest ceremonies in the state of Michigan doing a medical stand-by with him. At one of the nearby ski areas- they are posting an American flag for each person that died that day on their largest ski slope. There will be prayers, stories to share, and a reading of the names of people lost on that day. We've both decided this will be therapeutic for me to go thru on this- the last year- I will stop everything an mourn.

I always planned on the 10 year being the last one that I tucked myself away in the darkness of the memories and let myself relive every painful moment of that day. Will I simply stop remembering after Sunday? Of course not. It will be with me everyday for the rest of my life. But Sunday will be the last day that I stop my own personal world to mourn the girl that was stranded in Washington D.C. with only thirty dollars in her pocket and no way to call home. Hopefully I will stop looking for that innocent woman who's life came to a halt, watching the smoke billow from the Pentagon two blocks away, and who watched a "possibly hijacked" airliner being escorted into the airport directly behind her- knowing that if it was hijacked, it would most certainly crash into the numerous parked and fueled planes- leveling everything for 5 city blocks in a cloud of fire and smoke.

I had to force myself into survival mode- making myself not think about whether or not my husband was still alive or where he was, and to fend for myself until I finally got home to Michigan three days later. There, in the safety of friends and family- I could let go and sob. I could be afraid only then. I'm not the same person I was ten years ago. Nobody is.

I got out my old journals from back then, and that's when I realized how unhappy I was in my first marriage. How I was so afraid of him leaving me. How badly I thought I needed and loved him. My god. I was weak! I was naieve! And honestly- quite pathetic. I can say that now. I can now say how happy I am he cheated on me and that I kicked his ass out of my life. Sure- it hurt for a little while, but I got over it. I do still harbor ill feelings, but those only creep out rarely. But to be in constant fear of him leaveing was no way to live a marriage. The way he treated me to make me feel that way- surely doesn't make him a man. I do hope he's changed that part of his behavior now that he's moved on, as have I. I know I'm different. I only hope that he isn't treating another woman like he once treated me.

Sorry... this will be the week that I relieve a lot of my past... Bare with me, please?


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