I’ve had a many ups and downs in my life; my childhood wasn’t the ideal or typical American childhood. However, even my deepest most traumatic moments in my life couldn’t compare to the sorrow, fear, and uncertainty that I felt on September 11, 2001. I was twenty seven at the time and it was a clear September day in Las Vegas, Nevada. I consider myself a writer, I’ve written over a hundred poems, and a few short stories and I’m writing a novel at the moment. Yet, I could never bring myself to write about 9-11 -Every time I tried, I would just sit and stare at the screen and images of the news would come to mind and I would be frozen and no words seemed right, nothing could be written to explain, heal or understand the sorrow of that day. No poem, no rhyme, nothing except a state of mourning and pain. It was too much for me to handle, it traumatized, wounded and forever changed me.
I woke up on 9-11-2001 early as usual and I took a shower, dressed and then gently woke my five year old up for Kindergarten. I was doing her hair when I heard my father yell to us from the living room to come quickly to watch the news. As I entered the living room I saw the World Trade Tower on fire and Peter Jennings was explaining the situation in a grave and unbelievable tone. I sat down, and began to numbly do my daughters hair. Then the second plane hit the second tower and at that moment everything changed. I asked my husband if I should send our daughter to school and we decided to send her. Her school was only a block away as we walked together a wave of parents from our neighborhood followed. Normally everyone laughed and joined in conversations and yet this morning we walked our kids to school in silence. I spoke to my daughters Kindergarten teacher, she spoke in low broken tones, her husband was a pilot and he was in the air. She assured us she would watch our kids and I hugged my daughter and the pain in her teachers’ eyes sent shivers down my spine. My husband and I walked back home and drank coffee and watched in horror as the towers fell and dust took over New York. The rest of the day we ate, drank and did everything in front of the television set. I donated money to the Red Cross and I still felt it wasn’t enough. I prayed, I watched and I felt as if nothing would ever be the same.
That horrific day changed our country, it changed our world. I cannot express how deeply if affected me. I knew no one in the towers, I knew no one in the planes, or in New York, yet I felt as if my brothers and sisters had died. I felt for the mother whose daughter didn’t come home, I felt for the wife whose husband didn’t come home, for the children who grew up without their father or mother. I look at my daughters now and they have grown up in a world where terror has become a part of their everyday lives. My eight year old was born in 2003 and she was born to a world where terror has been a part of the evening news and where war has been ongoing for all of her life.
My thoughts are with those who perished on that day, with those family members who couldn’t even bury their loved ones, with all the firefighters who died and those who lived and worked on the site and those who live with the effects of the dust and trauma. My love goes to them all, to the policemen and policewomen who died and to their families and to those who lived and lost their loved ones. To the NYPD who has forever changed because of that day. To the people on the planes and to their families and to the people who were there simply going to work, taking their kids to school, opening up their business’s and to all the people who were affected by that day. My love goes to the soldiers and their families.
I come from a large family, we have family meetings, and this past labor day weekend we got together and I started our meeting with gratitude, love and the meaning of family and how lucky my family is to be together alive and well. Certain sadness takes over our family every September since 9-11-01 and everyone deals with it in their own way. I started this weekend working hard on cleaning my house, gathering things for a yard sale. Saturday my mother, my sister, my daughters, and my nephew all helped me with a yard sale and for moments at a time I forgot what day it was and as the night fell I felt the daunting feeling of tomorrow and a nation in pain. I spent Sunday glued to the television, in my pajamas with my daughters. I went to the store and made dinner and went to bed hoping the pain in my heart would be lighter in the morning.
Terror came upon us that day and we pushed through with courage, love, compassion, togetherness, and everything that is the American spirit. I am strengthened by the passion, drive, love, and all the heroes of that day and all the days afterward. I am able now to put together my story and to tell it. I’m proud to be American, I’m proud of my family and I’m proud of my daughters ad I try to look at the world through their eyes.
I dedicate these poems that I wrote to New York City-
FAITH
Faith-
Don’t desert me in my darkest hour
Faith-
Pick me up for hope has abandoned me
Faith-
Come back to me, for I am in need
I wish you to come to me in effortless fancy
Swiftly and quietly, hurry I beg;
For I fear that doubt surrounds me
I have tried to do right
And it has given me a broken heart
So where do I start?
I know I must pick up
I know I must get dressed
I know I must go on
I am so tired, but I cannot sleep
I am heart broken, yet I cannot cry
I give my troubles to you
And I will wait for you, to turn them into joy and light
Faith-
Written by Janie Zavala
www.janiepoetry.com
I WATCHED YOU GO-
I watched you go
I said goodbye
I kissed you softly
I watched you go
I didn’t know, what was next
I watched in horror
And I knew
I’d hold on to you forever
I’d pray to you
I’d talk to you
I’d remember all your glory and your love
I’ll take you with me
Year after year, some pain subsides
Just when I thought, I’d heal and be just fine
I find myself standing here
Wishing I could rewind time
I watched you go
I didn’t know, it would be the last time
I said goodbye
I kissed you softly
I watched you go
I wish I could take back time
Written by Janie Zavala