Uncharted Territory

On this anniversary of the September 11 attacks, I find myself in uncharted territory.

Usually this date sets me on edge.  Many living here in the DC area are understandably on high alert, silently wondering if this will be the year something dreadful happens again. Flags at half-mast fly in every direction.  Traffic is re-routed.  Speeches, and marches, and motorcades abound. It’s frenetic.   It’s palpably painful.  Many around me are choked up and near tears as they attempt to go about the day’s activities.  Wanting to remember, yet trying to forget. Deep emotion is just under the surface.

And in the past, for me, this date has always brought back a flood of traumatic memories.

My husband and I were married three days before the tragedy.  We were on our honeymoon when our lives changed completely.  I married a Marine who was considering getting out and moving on. Within 72 hours the playbook had changed.  Twelve years later his devotion to the Corps and to the country remains as steadfast as his love for me.  And despite deployments, months of separations and times where I thought my heart would break out of concern for his safety, I have not once regretted my choice of spouse.

So along with the country’s mourning, I used to hold a personal sorrow for what might have been.

But that has shifted.

I still feel sadness for lives taken too soon and innocence lost.  But this morning as I was rerouted past the Pentagon, I did not feel fear for my husband who was sitting at a desk deep within.  When I missed a turn (as I so often do in DC) and serendipity took me past the Lincoln Memorial, down a street where I could see through stones of the Martin Luther King Memorial to the dome of the Jefferson Memorial, and then within sight of the Washington Monument, I felt honored to live near our nation’s capital.   As I drove up to the Marine Corps Barracks (my destination), I was filled with pride to be associated with men and women who have dedicated their lives to serving our country.

So today feels different.

Instead of bearing the weight of life’s uncertainty that comes from thoughts of “How could something so tragic happen? Could it happen again?” I am struck by the fact that life IS uncertain, and that’s part of the elegance of it all.  If I think about anything I truly cherish and work backwards to tell the story of how it came to be, it’s almost always a hero’s saga.  When a horrifying, painful or tragic event occurred, I would never have believed at the time that something good could come from it.  But the chances of good rising from bad, like the mythical Phoenix from the ashes, is always high.   Twelve years ago I could not have imagined all the blessings I have today, not in spite of the terrorist attack, but because of it.  That day shifted the trajectory of my marriage, my career, my general perspective on life, moving me to a place that is far better than where I was headed.

I still mourn for those who were senselessly killed on that tragic day.  But as I look at the flag at half-mast, along with the sadness, I can see people who moved to different cities or tried new experiences because 9-11 taught them to take nothing for granted.  I hold dear the family members who remember fallen loved ones, but are equally blessed to have new loves in their lives.   I honor the men and women who joined the military, learned new skills and changed their lots in life because they were inspired by the patriotism 9-11 stirred in them.

September 11, 2001 changed us all.  I hope we have risen as a country.  I hope history shows that this is a hero’s saga.  I hope from the ashes, there is something here for the United States to cherish.  And today for me, instead of fear, it feels good to hold hope in my heart.