New York's Big Loss

September 11, 2009, eight years after the day we will never forget. I attend a memorial service on campus. I watch the live stream on my computer, listen to the names being read, in the rain and wind of this stormy day. Eight years but it seems like only yesterday. The observances are important, to bring us back, to remember the lost souls, to listen to Mary Chapin Carpenter sing "Grand Central Station" and "In my Heaven".

Lives were lost for no reason, good or otherwise. New York lost something too. The energy, the flash, the wisdom and the hope. I always knew north and south when I was in Manhattan, before the buildings fell. I could just look around, up to the sky, and there they were. Two very tall boxes all shiny in the sun. I knew that was south, unless I was at the seaport. Now I need my compass.

I stood on the top of one of the towers when it was first built and open. I took my son there so we could see all of Manhattan and beyond. Many years later, my son was nearby when the towers fell. Thankfully, miraculously, gratefully, he could run from the billowing smoke, not be one of those buried beneath the ash. Two very real memories. There was the sunshine, there was the hope, there was the pile. So sad.

First Grade

Tomorrow my grandson, Timothy, starts first grade. I remember when my son and daughter each started first grade. And I remember, impossible as it seems, when I started first grade. That's the thing about getting older. It doesn't matter what the year is, what the number is, the memories keep us in the moment of the age we are remembering.

My teacher was Sr. Mary Conceptor, in full Presentation Sisters regalia. She wore a black habit with white cardboard chest plate (representing a clean soul) and rosary beads on her belt. We little girls were fascinated with the rosary beads, how they all hung exactly the same from each of the nun's belts. On the left, hanging in a way that the crucifix had its own 'holder' because it was so heavy. We would touch the beads when she was not looking. They were much bigger and important than the beads we carried in our schoolbags.

Sister sat on the counter ledge above the cabinets that held our supplies, books, papers, crayons, paints and glue. She would close her eyes when we would not be quiet, pretending to go to sleep. This terrified us all, imagining our caretaker sound asleep. Who would be there for us if sister was asleep? Our fear quieted us down, and she would open her eyes with a smile.

My memories take me back to this year, my sixth year. I still feel the happiness being in that room, the fear when I thought I was alone, and the absolute awe when I realized I could read a page in a book-- "See Scott run" or "See Sally go to school"-- or understand that one plus one would equal two. Yes, I still feel the awe.

My biggest hope for Timothy is that he will feel the awe. That he will remember the joy when he is a granddad. Wow.

End of summer -- almost

Seems busier than ever here at work. We seem to move faster and try to cover more ground as every year passes. I had one brief detour in Block Island recently. Only two nights, but it seemed much longer. We took the ferry from Narragansett pier and the moment the sea water sprayed my face and my arms I could feel the tight muscles relax. In a very short while we were walking off the ferry, bags in hand, and up Spring Street to the B and B. The late day sun, low in the sky, cast a gold shadow on the east-facing beach and Front Street.

We bagged our bags, strutted like peacocks down the hill to the National Hotel restaurant on the porch, ordered dinner and vowed to come back. And that was only half an hour into our weekend.

Sigh, so here I sit, working on the web and dreaming of a time so long ago (only five days) just a memory. Anyway, I'm outta here till Monday, so I'll try to find some peace again this weekend.

Well here is another photo. One which is much more representative of who I am. Mother, Grandmother, Sister, Worker. The previous photo was taken at the top of the World Trade Center in 1982 (or about then). I'm standing on top of the world with my son and nephew. I like the picture, cause I look gooo-oood if you know what I mean.

Anyway, an illustration that you should not believe all you see. I tricked you, yes I did. My grandson is now almost the same age as my son in the photo. How time flies!

My first blog

Phill, Pete and Diana on top of the World Trade Center 1981

I'm coming to this blogging world a little resistant. After all, who wants to hear about me and my stuff? Everybody has an opinion, and mine is just one more. In the class I teach at Iona College, LIRIC Intermediate Computing, one of my students asked, what's a blog? So I needed to do some research, and after all, have one of my own. I don't know if I'll continue blogging, but this afternoon's research is one detour in my long daily journey of getting by. You know what I mean?