It Is Another Perfect Day

I remember how beautiful the day was five years ago. The skies were clear, the temperature a perfect September day.

I remember working at my new job that morning, bored because I was one of the only people in my office.

I remember hearing that we were under attack, that we should all go home, that all the bridges and tunnels into and out of NYC were closed.

I remember wondering where E was in NY that day, wondering if he ws ok, wondering if he was ok, if he could get home, wondering if he was alive. Calling and calling but the phones were overloaded, I couldn't get through for an hour.
I remember him finally calling me, he was safe, tears started flowing. He made it through the Tapanzee bridge right before it closed, he was smart enough to leave NY the minute he heard the news.

I remember driving home, to my little house in the woods, on top of the mountain. The mountain that had a perfect view of NYC. The mountain where we watched the smoke billow in the September air. The smoke was the only thing out of place in that perfect day.

I remember the fighter pilots that flew what felt like inches above my head, all day and night.

I remember being scared.

I remember waking in the night to ask my husband if that terrible sounds I was hearing was thunder or were we being bombed?

I remember hearing that my friend from high school was in the building.

I remember how sad I was. How sad I still am.

I remember.