I remember...

Originally posted 2 years ago...still feels the same now.

It's four days until the 10th anniversary of the day it all changed. Ten years can feel like such a long time ago, but in a moment I can be brought back to that morning.

I can remember every moment of the day and the days that followed.

I remember...dropping Zach at day two of kindergarten.
I remember...walking down Park Avenue to work and thinking the sky never looked this blue.
I remember...my friend Tanya calling to tell me the Trade Center had been hit by a plane.
I remember...not having a radio or CNN newsfeed, and only wanting to watch the Today Show.
I remember...Tanya calling back, now screaming the other Tower was hit by another plane.

I remember...being relieved that I hadn't gotten the job at One World Trade Center the year before.

I remember...stepping outside to smoke a cigarette and someone yelled, "the Pentagon has been hit."
I remember...deciding to pick Zach up from school and us going home to be safe.
I remember...being glued to CNN, as Zach watched cartoons in the other room.
I remember...my breath being taken away as the first Tower fell.
I remember...Zach's school receiving bomb threats.
I remember...feeling so anxious of what was going to happen next and when.
I remember...the wind changing, and the burning smell of downtown lingering on my terrace.
I remember...how I couldn't stop crying and still today cannot think about that day without crying.
I remember...watching this video over and over and feeling unimaginably sad.

But what I want to remember, is the kindness and good I saw in the people of New York. 

8-26-13

It's been 40 years since we met in seventh grade. 

We spent a lot of time together with equal time apart.

We grew up together.

We smoked apples for the first time in your room. Benson & Hedges apples.

We bought lavender hip hugger landlubbers, huck-a-poo shirts and hideous high heels.

We celebrated your sweet 16…“Does Macy’s tell Gimbels?”

We ran around Nice, Paris and London after we graduated from Dalton.

I still put Q-tips in silver cups and tissues in baskets.

I was your maid of honor and you were my matron of honor.

I was so proud of you when you received your MFA.

You were the first person I left Zach with when he was born.

Your paintings have always hung in my living room. We used to think Zach liked them so much because they looked like eyes watching over him.

There’s a little comfort in thinking that’s what they’re doing now for you.

2 boys

Sybrina Fulton and I share something special. We each gave birth to a son in 1995. She in February and I in September. I’ve spent the last 17 years worrying about my son’s safety – SIDS, choking on a grape, falling in the park, riding a bike, crossing the street, flying in a plane, getting mugged, being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Never once were my fears based on the color of his skin.

I’ve spoken with moms of color who tell me about the angst they feel when they think about the conversation they must have with their sons…save the receipt for that pack of gum so you’re not accused of stealing, be respectful if stopped by the police… To hear the mom of an 8 year old speak about the safety of her soon-to-be teenage son is nothing short of tragic and horrifying, and a fear this country should have already erased by now.

When the verdict came in last night, I looked at my son and my heart broke for Sybrina Fulton.  I can hug my son and tell him I love him, but it was impossible to look at him and not think of Trayvon.