I was living in NYC on 9/11, way uptown, pretty far away from Ground Zero. It was almost 11 months since i had lost my daughter, Lisa, almost 19 years old, in a firey car crash along with her two friends, Sean and Amy. So I had already been living with shock and grief for a while.
It was an almost perfect fall morning, until we heard the news. In my Yorkville neighborhood people starting spilling out of their apartments, lining up at hospitals to give blood, only to be turned away after waiting... there would be very few survivors who needed it.
In the days following, NYC was in shock.
In a strange way, I felt like I could help, because I was experiencing my own personal grief- I wanted to help, but there was not much I could do.
Sometimes the only thing that could be done was to move to the back of a crowded bus. A plane would fly overhead, and everyone would freeze. Another attack? Who knew?
Almost 3000 souls were lost in the attacks of 9/11. I thought then and still do now, that Lisa, Sean, and Amy, were Angelic Greeters for these new souls stepping into the next world. It gives me comfort that perhaps the 9/11 victims saw their smiling faces and felt their loving hugs.
After death, only the love remains....
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