Sunday, September 11, 2011


I don't watch TV and catch very little news on the radio or online, so I found myself reflecting on my memories of this day, ten years later, in a personal way.  What I remember most that day was losing my mind from sheer shock and panic, and then having to get it together to support my father whose wife was in the Middle East.  I remember crying with him, I remember trying to reassure him that she'd be able to get out safely, I remember serving him microwave-reheated fish that was not in the least bit tasty, I remember watching WAY too much news, I remember being glad we were together. 

Reflecting on the loss that is such a part of this day, I found myself comforted and delightfully amused by a friend's way of connecting with his deceased grandmother.  He has a lovely, whimsical doll resting on a piece of furniture in his bedroom.  On her lap is a deliciously blinged-out red cell phone, should they ever need to talk.  This makes me so, so happy!  Perhaps because of all the people I've known who have died, my own grandmother is the one person I'd most like to check in with.  I wouldn't need to know where she is or anything like that, instead I'd want to let her know that I'm OK.  That I'm no longer the angst-ridden 17 year old she worried so much about during the last year of her life, the one she so desperately wished she could invite to live in her home were she not so ill.  I'd want her to know that though I didn't "fit" in my nuclear family for many years during my childhood, I have a beautiful family of my own now and I do my best to make sure my own children do "fit".  I think I'd like to ease her mind and set her free.  I think I need my own magical, sparkly phone.

For Urah Bell, Grandma Avis, and my Nana.

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