My first trip Uptown

Eleven years ago I made a trip to my friend Erica's apartment uptown NYC.  This visit was not a scheduled but an impromptu one. 
This was September 11, 2001.  The day many, if not all of our, lives changed.  I vividly remember where I was at the exact moment of the first plane's entrance into the World Trade Center. I had kept that Starbucks receipt, date and time stamped, until last year, when I felt I needed to separate myself from the surreal moments of that day and the days and years to follow. 
I remember the smell, that wretched smell of terror, terrorists, death, love, forgiveness, sadness, emptiness, and strength. 
I remember the sights of people walking like zombies: the quietness, the loss.
I remember the calls that were made that day.  I remember the pleas that were made that day.
I remember my journey throughout the streets from the Empire State Building towards uptown.  I remember my journey home.  I remember the emptiness in the days to follow. 
I remember.

Every year I watch the reading of the names.  I sob as the names, the stories, and the memories are recalled.  My son watches me as I watch this numerous hour televised memorial.  He sees the planes, he sees the fright, and he sees the sadness.  I wonder what he will learn in school about this. 

But he will learn our home is on Monica Goldstein Way.  Monica, forever young, was a victim, a martyr, a hero, a tragic innocent loss, and a beautiful soul among the events of that day.  



Monica Goldstein



She was a kindhearted and silly 25 year old woman who went to work one morning; she was preparing for a marriage and a lifetime of memories.  Yet, her death, like many others of that day, will affect her friends and family, and strangers afar for the rest of their lives.  Maybe they named a child after her.  Maybe they changed their journey of life.  Maybe they realized life is too short.

This year, I again remember.  But this year, I remember that I am still standing on this Earth shaped by the decisions I have made, and the ability to have the opportunity to make those decisions.  I remember not to fear.
I will remember that my son will learn in school what he may about the events prior to and, during, and after September 11th . 
I will remember to let him know the love I have for him every day.
I will remember to let him know that nobody shall ever take away the opportunities that he may be afforded with.
And I will remember to let him know, September 11th happened, and his life has been affected by the loss.