9/10/21 Dear Me between 9/10 to 9/17 2001,

I know you don’t want to leave. I know you have been enjoying your time with Ingrid. I know that even though you were late from getting a little lost, you don’t want to be anywhere where you cannot meet Jack for dinner- Ethiopian or Italian or any cuisine for that matter. I know this time in New York was different for you than all the times before and I know how you thought for certain this time would be forever and I know much you still love New York; yet, how this time something clicked and moved it to a different category, one you can not yet name. Don’t worry about that, it will take you a few years to be able to see or feel any of that new ‘category’ clearly.

I know you chose the latest flight possible to stay as long as you could and I know you are surprised that Nancy is still determined to meet you on your layover in D.C. despite the late hour. I also know your thoughts during the short flight from New York to D.C. were full of how the job was not what it was promised to be and how you were not treated fairly and how you pledged to never let that happen again. Try to be gentle with yourself when you fully realize it will take at least another decade before you can fully honor that pledge. I also know that you had a fleeting thought that if the sublet did not have an expiration date, you probably would have stayed, despite that new feeling you can’t yet name.

I know when you land in Dallas and make it to your mom’s place you had begrudgingly agreed to go for a visit that you thought you would sleep for at least ten hours only to wake up a few hours later from a call from your mom to turn on the television. You follow her command only to hang up on her and call Jack quickly and demand he do the same thing. I know that you and Jack see the second plane crash into the tower live as it was happening while Jack was sharing that he couldn’t see any smoke. I know that when you then immediately called Ingrid she told you she made it as far as the subway platform and when she recognized the clumps falling from the sky as ash and realized no train would be coming, she walked back home. I know you wanted to get back there and help in anyway you could, but honestly, there was nothing you could do.

I know that your mother’s husband will not move from his chair or turn of the news for a week solid. I know you and your mom- though lifelong proud patriots of the United States bought your first American flag to attach to her car’s radio antennae. And I know all you wanted was to go home and in that moment home was Denver, your consistent touchpoint over the years, your hometown, your coagulation center. But there were no flights going anywhere. You are stuck in a city you had never had a desire to see. It feels so dire that your friend Janelle offers to come get you. As that plan was also deemed not tenable, you drive into town when your mother goes to work and you wander.

I know how barren and lonely you felt, how useless and helpless you felt as you roamed the streets of Dallas, alone. How you went through the conspiracy museum, alone. The grassy knoll, alone. The food court, utterly and completely alone. Your surname is on so many businesses and buildings throughout Dallas that you pretend the city is indeed yours and therefore it only exists for you. I know how numb you are and that you are afraid flying will never be the way it was for you ever again. I am saddened to report you are correct.

I know when you do make it to Denver and settle back with the library you think that job might be the answer, it isn’t, but you meet some tremendous people. I know that as the days get away from being days and head toward being a week after 9/11 you will hear from people who only knew you were in New York and couldn’t get ahold of you. In a perverse way this comforted you. You like being known as being in New York and that there are people who were worried about you. Your joy is quelled a bit when a friend points out that she knew you were in New York but that she also knew there would be no reason you would be anywhere near The World Trade Center that early in the morning. She is right, but still.

Some time later you will find a roll of film that you removed from its canister to use said canister for a coin purse. You will develop it to discover a blurry photograph of the Twin Towers you took while on the elevated train the day before you left during the ride back to Ingrid’s from Coney Island. Yes, it was the last time you were there when the shanty flea market was still there and you bought a pair of sunglasses that, “fixed your nose.” Even further beyond that you will give the stuffed commemorative cow parade cow with the twin towers adorned upon it to your boss with the Las Vegas Library District who grew up in New York and the trade center was her playground.

New York will no longer be your most prized and desperate location. Your annual birthday trips to the city will fade away, as will your friendships with Mark, Gabe, and Cordelia. However, Ingrid will come to visit and you will go see her when she also leaves the city. Jack marries and you don’t get to connect with him as often as you would like, but he is still solidly in your life. That feeling you couldn’t name was a movement of New York as an ideal and an only to a forever love that was no longer an ultimate need. It sounds sad, but it actually frees you in a way that nothing else has.

Coincidentally, you will discover that the woman you recognize as your love and marry was also traveling on September tenth to wake up to the news and the two of you will compliment each other on the good timing of aforementioned travels. The timing of that rivals the timing of our eventual meeting. And while you are writing this to yourself, your rapscallion of a cat will hold you captive by lying atop your keyboard to compose the following while leaving you with the caps lock on, as he does every time:                                                                                                                                                      78X9999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  

I know you know the time you spent in New York leading up to your 9/10/01 departure was meaningful, very much a sense of fate happening there. And I am here twenty years later to tell you that you are absolutely spot on. You set many things in motion and created memories that continue to inspire you today. It is okay to trust this decision, it marked the end of an era for so many of your flights of fancy and we are better for it, even if we were slower to realize all the lessons in front of us than we may have expected. Be gentle with us about that, we will always do the best we can in every situation.  

Sincerely,
sm