It's been 6 years. Six years ago the life of an entire continent changed forever. I remember I was at my parents house in Craiova, Romania watching a soap opera. I usually don't watch soap operas, but that summer me and one of my best friends decided to watch "The Young and the Restless" just to see how stupid and illogical the action could get. At one point the soap opera got interrupted...BREAKING THE NEWS...one of the Twin Towers got hit by an airplane. Everybody thought it was an accident. I went into the other room where my mother was sleeping, I woke her up and I told her: "Mom, an airplane hit one of the WTC buildings in NY !". She replied that it was probably an accident. For exactly 16 minutes the whole world wondered how such an accident could have happened. And then we got the answer. A second plane hit the second tower. It hadn't been an accident. When I went into my mother's room to tell her about the second plane she said: "Oh, God ! The war is coming !". She couldn't have been more right.
I remember the images, people running, screaming, people fighting for their lives. There is a footage which I cannot get out of my mind no matter how hard I try. The footage is with a man the dives out of the window of one of the floors just under where one of the planes hit. Even now, six years after seeing that image, it still send shivers down my spine. I keep wondering what he must have felt, if he knew he was going to die... back then, when I saw the image live, I kept praying that something would break his fall and he wouldn't die. After he fell, I realized that in that very moment his life had ended.
I live in NYC now, and a few weeks ago I went to Ground Zero. All the things I had seen on TV came rushing back to me. All the terror, the deaths, the despair... I had never seen NYC before 9/11, but it somehow felt like I was there when the planes crashed. And then I saw the cross made out of the structure of one of the towers as a tribute to all the people that died there. I stood there wishing that something could have been done for all the innocent people that died there. I didn't know any of them, but still I consider their dying as a big loss for all North America.
Today I wanted to go to Ground Zero at the commemoration, but I was afraid. Not of another attack or anything like that, but of seeing all those people who have lost their loved ones there, of seeing so much grief in one place. I didn't know if i could handle it. I only lost 2 people that were dear to me. I accepted the death of one o them, maybe because he was in his sixties, he had lived a great part of his life and, considering the fact that he was ill, his beautiful part of life had pretty much ended. But the death of one of my dear friends...I don't think I will ever be able to accept it. He was 27 and his only fault was that he got on the wrong bus with the wrong driver. It was raining, the driver was speeding and in a curve, he lost control of the bus and crashed it. My friend died instantly... There are 2 reasons why I will never accept his death:
1. he was young, full of energy, full of life and hope
2. I didn't get a chance to tell him I had been thinking about him. We grew apart after college when everybody is eager to start the adult life, but lately I kept thinking about calling him. I had a phone number that I was planing on trying that very day. But I got a call from his best friend before I ever got a chance to check that number. He asked me if I still remember them. I laughed and replied that I had been thinking about calling Manu (our friend that died) for the past few days, I just didn't get around to doing it. He told me I should have done it sooner, because now, there's no way to do it. I felt as if everything around me had vanished and I was alone in an empty room collapsing on the floor.
Manu was gone. That very instant I started remembering all the memories I had about him and I prayed I would not forget any of them. I kept trying to remember more and more. I felt that if I could remember enough then maybe he wouldn't be dead. I couldn't bring myself to understant it. How could he be dead ? And what is death in the end ? Why did he die ? Was there a reason ? An ultimate goal ? I ask myself those questions about the people who died on 9/11 also.
I was scared of going to Groud Zero today, because I was scared of feeling the way I felt when Manu died.
I remember the images, people running, screaming, people fighting for their lives. There is a footage which I cannot get out of my mind no matter how hard I try. The footage is with a man the dives out of the window of one of the floors just under where one of the planes hit. Even now, six years after seeing that image, it still send shivers down my spine. I keep wondering what he must have felt, if he knew he was going to die... back then, when I saw the image live, I kept praying that something would break his fall and he wouldn't die. After he fell, I realized that in that very moment his life had ended.
I live in NYC now, and a few weeks ago I went to Ground Zero. All the things I had seen on TV came rushing back to me. All the terror, the deaths, the despair... I had never seen NYC before 9/11, but it somehow felt like I was there when the planes crashed. And then I saw the cross made out of the structure of one of the towers as a tribute to all the people that died there. I stood there wishing that something could have been done for all the innocent people that died there. I didn't know any of them, but still I consider their dying as a big loss for all North America.
Today I wanted to go to Ground Zero at the commemoration, but I was afraid. Not of another attack or anything like that, but of seeing all those people who have lost their loved ones there, of seeing so much grief in one place. I didn't know if i could handle it. I only lost 2 people that were dear to me. I accepted the death of one o them, maybe because he was in his sixties, he had lived a great part of his life and, considering the fact that he was ill, his beautiful part of life had pretty much ended. But the death of one of my dear friends...I don't think I will ever be able to accept it. He was 27 and his only fault was that he got on the wrong bus with the wrong driver. It was raining, the driver was speeding and in a curve, he lost control of the bus and crashed it. My friend died instantly... There are 2 reasons why I will never accept his death:
1. he was young, full of energy, full of life and hope
2. I didn't get a chance to tell him I had been thinking about him. We grew apart after college when everybody is eager to start the adult life, but lately I kept thinking about calling him. I had a phone number that I was planing on trying that very day. But I got a call from his best friend before I ever got a chance to check that number. He asked me if I still remember them. I laughed and replied that I had been thinking about calling Manu (our friend that died) for the past few days, I just didn't get around to doing it. He told me I should have done it sooner, because now, there's no way to do it. I felt as if everything around me had vanished and I was alone in an empty room collapsing on the floor.
Manu was gone. That very instant I started remembering all the memories I had about him and I prayed I would not forget any of them. I kept trying to remember more and more. I felt that if I could remember enough then maybe he wouldn't be dead. I couldn't bring myself to understant it. How could he be dead ? And what is death in the end ? Why did he die ? Was there a reason ? An ultimate goal ? I ask myself those questions about the people who died on 9/11 also.
I was scared of going to Groud Zero today, because I was scared of feeling the way I felt when Manu died.
