A Starry Remembrance

It started as a typical end of summer day, as I sat at my desk reading email, listening to the radio, and thinking of the start of a vacation getaway later that evening. A special report came to my attention with the announcement that a plane had just collided with the World Trade Center. I was stunned after a second plane was reported as crashing the second tower. Concern turned to horror as I realized this was no coincidence, we were being attacked. With a sick and sinking feeling I turned off my computer, packed my things, and left my building. Many employees were coming through the front door as I was leaving, some recounting the terrible news. As I rode home, I couldn't understand why people would continue to go to work, when it was now clear a war of sorts was in effect. Arriving home I immediately called my son who was headed for NYC that morning to install cellular equipment high upon some building. I hoped and prayed that he wasn't already high atop the fated towers. An hour passed and another plane crashed until I finally got a call from my son that he was OK, but had witnessed the collapse of the towers while on the road to NY. "It was horrible and I can't talk about it" is all he said. Crying from both relief and sadness I became glued to the TV trying to understand the senseless attacks. My husband came home from work as well, and quietly packed some belongings for our vacation and bid me into the car. As we drove along the Garden State Parkway, you could still see the smoldering fumes, which smelled like a whole world was burning. We rode in silence. Once at our motel along the Jersey shore we went to the beach bar to share the TV reports with other crestfallen vacationers. There was no laughing or running to the beach, only TV and refills on drinks. Later that night we took a blanket to the beach where the only sound was the occasional engine of a lone military plane that circled the area. The sea was quiet, the gulls were quiet, and moon was on the wane. Once darkness came, we laid down to look at the night sky. Suddenly there were flashes of light, a few at first, and then more coming with regularity. Shooting stars were lighting up the sky, clear and steady for what seemed like hours. In a search for hope, I thought of each star representing a person who perished during the vile attacks. These "stars" were not lost, but were finding their way to a safe place, where together they might set the stage for a better future somewhere. It's still the only way I can cope with the grief of so many loved ones.