Scratch the surface of any long-time New Yorker on 9-11, we all bleed smoke and tears.
It took me a long time to be able to write anything about it. I lived in Hell’s Kitchen at the time. Ended up volunteering on The Pile shortly after, eyes and lungs searing with ash and fear. Few people slept without having known someone who went to work in the morning and never came home.
That day reset my lens on life. I’m always surprised how emotional I get writing about it. Because the moment I do, I’m back there.
You’ll find far more eloquent tributes all over the media and the web today.
For me, something simple…
Hug someone like you mean it. Kiss them.
Look in their eyes like it’s the last time you’ll see them.
Love them like this moment is the only one you’ll get.
God-willing it won’t be. For a very long time.
But, don’t forsake the window.
To do it. Now.
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