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5 Weeks Later
It’s 1:25 AM, and I can’t sleep. I can’t stop thinking about this massive hole in the ground. I used to be able to see the Twin Towers from Eagle Rock. Now, I can’t remember where exactly they were. Maybe they were there. No, a little to the right, or was it left? I don’t remember anymore. I’ve been reciting Shema a lot more than I used to. I pray that maybe God will find just one more live body from the wreckage. But I know better. It’s been over five weeks, and no one has been found alive. But I can’t stop thinking about it. People I don’t even know, yet I can almost see their faces. Their families still in mourning, struggling to move on with their own lives. The firefighters, police, emergency workers, and ordinary citizens who risked and gave their own lives to save others. But I also think about the survivors. The people who missed the 8:05 and had to take the next train--the one that would have arrived just after the planes struck. Those in the Towers who managed to get out before they collapsed. I know this feeling will pass. I know I’ll be able to sleep again. But right now, it all still haunts me. (Copyright Barry Goodsmith, 10/19/01) |
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