When I was about 6 years old my family & I had lived in Harrison. Everyone knew each other, and everything was safe. I went out to ride my bike with friends without a care in the world. One day I went out to ride my bike like I would have any other day, however, that day I found a bird. To me it seemed injured. So I had picked it up and brought it inside to nurse it back to health. Little did I know that the bird was already dead, but my grandma knew how much it meant to me to save this bird so she played along. It's a little sick now that I think about it, I held a dead bird.. Anyway, my grandma and I had made it a little home & we set it in the garden because my grandma told me it's mother will find it and bring him home. The next day I go out and the bird is gone.
What was the point to that somewhat sick story? I'll get there after another story, as a matter of fact, I have a mini series of stories. My dad had left when I was around 2 and never really saw his way back other than what the court had ordered. When he did pick me up we would go to the city skyline in Hoboken, actually, not too sure if it was in Hoboken, but for the sake of the story bare with me. We would go get ice cream first then go see the skyline. I don't remember why we would go there, but it was the only time I had ever felt close to him. I do remember seeing those towers, they were so beautiful. And seeing how I was so short they were the tallest things I have ever seen.
I remember we would sit on the rocks (back when you could actually go on the rocks now it's closed off). I would go on the rocks until I touched water. My father told me so many stories about the towers and what they stood for. He also told me that there were dolphins in that body of water we were at & we were lucky enough to see one on one of our random visits. After 9/11 we never went back to the skyline again. And this may sound silly, but when 9/11 happened I knew I had lost my father. He never really came to pick me up anymore, I don't know if maybe he got depressed after what had happened? But the relationship between my father & I is no longer.
Now, lets go a little further when I'm 12. It is Christmas eve, and my aunts had taken me to NYC to see the tree. One of my aunts was pregnant at the time & before leaving the city she had to use the bathroom. I had escorted her to the bathroom and notice there was a woman with big black bags. She looked cold, however, she did have some food with her. I approached her and offered her a 20, she declined it. So, I decided to sit and listen to her story. Why was she there? Why was she out in the snow alone? She told me, and I offered her a place to stay, she said no to that too. So, I just listened.
What's the point of all this? I have always been the type to need to help people, and after this day. Even now, I just feel so helpless. My uncle worked at the world trade center, however, that day trafic prevented him from being there. So many people lost so much that day, and if you have a loved one in the military, we're still losing people because of that day. Recently I lost a friend. Back in July three brave men went on a mission in Afghanistan, and come August only 2 came back. I cannot mention any names due to OPSEC rules *I am part of a military family*. When I was told that he didn't come back I didn't know what to do. We weren't too close, they were my penpals, the best penpals I have ever had.
The day I found out he didn't come back I didn't know how to handle it. I cried. I felt as if it were only a day ago I had told them to be safe & I knew they would come back safely... What broke my heart even more was the thought of someone telling his family. I just pictured them in my mind over and over again. I still keep in contact with the others & tell them everyday how proud I am of what they are doing for our country. I just wish we didn't still have so much to lose.... I will always be proud to be an American.
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