It’s been eleven years now since the World Trade Center attack. While physical evidence of the wounds have healed, some mental healing takes time.
Back in 2001, I was working nights until 11:00 pm. The internet was only a few years old, and still a playground for me. I’d be on until roughly 1 am, and fall into bed, and sleep until about 10 am the next morning. My radio would be my alarm clock those days. As I was stirring that morning, I vaguely sleepily questioned why I was getting news rather than music at that time. Something about airplanes, and towers, and lampposts being
sheared off in Washington. As I laid there, I slowly listened to the descriptions of the horrors that had happened as I slept.