Tuesday, September 11, 2012

Life goes on

It's 9/11. And I don't have much to say-except in the past decade, I saw the Towers fall, was down at Ground Zero, lost my mother after a decade of cancer, and had two utterly lifechanging accidents. I have never considered any part of my life as a tragedy, although others have. I think that watching my mother fight so hard to live, showed me how much life means. It's beautiful. Every single day that a person chooses to get up and fight and find the daisy in the sidewalk is a triumph. Any time a person says hello on the street, every smile given, any friendships formed, any babies born, anyone falling in love, anyone taking a leap...these are the reasons I watch in wonder. I am no Pollyanna, but the people I admire most are the ones who get up everyday and experience it. I am not acting right now, I am writing. A few years ago I never would have thought. Because most little girls want to be actresses. I always wanted to be a writer and go to college. Which in no way negates my love of acting. But after the Towers fell, I had a cop stay in touch for several years. And at the end of every call we would enumerate the things we still needed to do. He wanted a tattoo. I wanted Broadway. And in each consecutive call we would tell each other what we'd done that we hadn't before. A beautiful ritual. 

1 comment:

  1. An act repeated formally, with significance, can be a beautiful thing even for us outsiders looking in. Thanks for sharing your private moment of measure.