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On Saturday, September 15th, 2001, two of our young friends were set to be married. The wedding had been months in the planning. The guest list was long. If you've been involved in putting on a traditional wedding with all the trimmings, you know how much work is involved (the venue rental, the caterers, the wedding cake, the florist, the band, the tux rentals, the last-minute dress fittings...). You also know how the pace quickens and the excitement mounts as the day approaches.
By Wednesday, September 12th, they wondered if they should call it off. Who would want to come and, if they did come, who would be in a celebratory mood?
They did get married on September 15th, but I'm told there was a somberness to the occasion (illness kept me from attending). A decade and two children later, they're about to celebrate their tenth wedding anniversary. I've never forgotten what a difficult time those five days in September of 2001 were for them.
As we approach the tenth anniversary of that horrific Tuesday in September, I've been reflecting on the bride and groom's experience. It led me to think of the thousands of people whose celebrations or whose grieving over non-9/11 events were affected because all of us were in a state of shock.
This piece is simply intended to acknowledge the suffering of those who, at first glance, weren't directly affected by the devastating events of that day:
The family whose father was in a Lower Manhattan hospital on 9/11, scheduled to begin chemotherapy for a brain tumor—a potentially life-saving procedure that had to be postponed for a week.
The parents in the mid-west, awaiting a kidney transplant for their daughter, an operation that, with air transportation grounded, couldn't be performed because the vital organ didn't arrive.
The thousands of families who couldn't go through the normal grieving process when their loved ones—a mother, a father, a son, a daughter—died on 9/11 or the days that followed of causes unrelated to the terrorist attack.
The thousands of babies born on 9/11 or the days that followed whose parents struggled to put aside the traumatic images of that Tuesday so they could try to feel joy as they held their newborns for the first time.
On this tenth anniversary, my heart goes out to the 9/11 Families—a group that includes the loved-ones of those on the planes, those in the buildings, and those who gave their lives trying to save them; the first responders who didn't die but were permanently disabled as a result of their heroic efforts—and their loved-ones; the thousands of Ground Zero workers who have developed life-threatening health problems as a result of tirelessly sifting through the toxic rubble to find survivors...and then bodies—and the loved-ones of those workers.
As my heart aches for the 9/11 Families, I'm also thinking of those other, unacknowledged victims of that horrific day in September.
© 2011 Toni Bernhard. Thank you for reading my work. I'm the author of three books:
How to Live Well with Chronic Pain and Illness: A Mindful Guide (2015)
How to Wake Up: A Buddhist-Inspired Guide to Navigating Joy and Sorrow (2013)
All of my books are available in audio format from Amazon, audible.com, and iTunes.
Visit www.tonibernhard.com for more information and buying options.
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