I woke up to the sound of the phone ringing. I was in my apartment in Berkeley and Sherm (who had just left the bay area and moved to st. louis weeks before) was on the line. Turn on the television, she said, a plane just flew into the World Trade Center.
I had just decided the day before (i kid you not, the very day before) that the rumbling I'd been feeling in my gut about moving back East was something I could no longer ignore, and I was going to start putting the wheels in motion to move back.
I'm so glad I decided before the 11th, because once it happened, I might have been moved to come back because of the tragedy - but then (during the early/harder parts of the re-entry/readjustment to being back in joisey) I probably would have second guessed my choice and regretted it. Because as soon as those Towers came down, I wanted nothing more than to toss some clothes in my car and just drive, drive, drive across the county to be in NY; I wanted to volunteer ... help ... be with my friends and family. I felt so at home in California, but I needed to get home.
It took me nearly 6 months to actually make the move, but today - along with all the other things September 11th brings up - I'm reminded of the powerful underline that it made to my decision. How, when it feels like the world has fallen off its center, do you not want to be near the ones you love? What else is there?
As the days get cooler and darker and I wish that things would get no colder and no darker (but thus far finding that i am unable to conjure up that magic), I plant my feet on the ground here in Joisey, just 20 miles from where the Towers used to be, 15 minutes from The Beaners, 1/2 hour from my Dad, under 40 minutes from Suz and her brood, and 3,000 miles from my beloved Bay Area ... where I belong.
Comments