If You're Looking For The Guilty, You Need Only Look In A Mirror

Sometimes I feel guilty about the fact that I missed out on the bulk of 9/11. Everyone you talk to has their own stories and memories. They were on their way to work or school. They were at home getting their children ready. They were somewhere, anywhere but they all heard it or saw it.

I was sleeping. To this day, I feel guilty for that. I feel guilty because I didn't initially participate in the reaction. I didn't see things unfold. I didn't hear things as they were happening. Most people had already has a chance to begin processing it a bit.

I was supposed to have a 8:30 am class that day. If I had gotten up on time and gotten to class, I still wouldn't have made it because fifteen minutes later the news broke. I don't even remember why I didn't go, so maybe it wasn't a good enough reason.

I woke up around 10:30am and got myself ready to drive into the city, about twenty minutes away. I didn't turn on the TV or the radio or anything because I needed to be out the door and on the road for the afternoon classes. It wasn't until I was in the car that I started hearing snippets and I still couldn't piece together what was going on.

All I heard initially was that the city of Philadelphia was shut down, essentially. All the government buildings, all the subways, the schools, the stores, EVERYTHING. And I couldn't begin to fathom what could have been so horrible to shut the entire city down.

I picked up my cell phone, called my mom and asked her what the hell was happening. She said "You don't know? What time did you wake up?"

"Just now," I said, a little shaky because at this point, not knowing was almost worse than knowing.

"Two planes hit the World Trade Centers in New York and both buildings collapsed just a half an hour or so ago"

Even at that point, it still hadn't hit me. I just couldn't understand what was going on. I couldn't comprehend it but I knew I wasn't going anywhere near the city at the moment because I at least felt the fear that anyone located near a major metropolitan area within two miles did: we could be next.

Instead, I went to work, only because at the time, I happened to be working with my mom. And at the time, that was the only place I felt safe.

I called Steve to make sure he was ok and he was a bit reserved and laid back as usual. He's always been more calm and capable of handling things than me and he managed to calm me down a bit.

When I got to work, everyone was crowded around the TV, just watching. No one wanted to go back upstairs, no one wanted to work, no one wanted to do anything but stay near each other and the TV.

At that point, I figured I was there and might as well work, but nobody worked. When we finally went upstairs, we switched from the TV to news sites and feeds and spent the afternoon calling out updates and places to find information.

The next few weeks would be ripe with tension, especially for us, as there was significant possibility my dad would be called up. We were nervous and proud all at the same time. Thankfully, almost selfishly, he didn't have to go anywhere and we were grateful. We got lucky.

Five years later, I still feel a bit removed from the situation and I think it's because I never started out in it. Don't get me wrong - I understand the magnamity of it. It does not make me less sympathetic, less patriotic or less compassionate. I am thankful everyday for the men and women who are brave enough to go and fight for this country and for me and work everyday to keep us safe.

But even now, I think a part of me is unable to process it as emotionally as I want to because I never got to process it initially. There's parts that's not ready to face it, there's parts that are. There's parts that feel the need just to move on and parts that want to dwell because I feel that by missing out on it, I missed out on a piece of the mourning that everyone else felt.

I think I'm still all over the place at times. And as guilty as I feel about it, I sometimes feel lucky that I didn't see it immediately. Sometimes the easiest way to deal with things is to push them at arm's length and keep them there. And by sheer luck, sleeping late that morning helped me keep this at arm's length.

I'm sorry if this entry seems all over the place. I wanted to write something but what I had in my mind might not have come out as clear as I wanted or needed it to.

All I can say is that I'm proud of the men and women who serve our country and I feel for the families who have lost since this whole thing started. Five years later, it's still fresh in everyone's mind, even if some of us don't memories as clear as others. Sometimes I'd rather be lucky than guilty. Sometimes, it's only right to be guilty.