SOME REFLECTION
I really did not intend to write anything about the 10th Anniversary of 9-11 in this post. What could I possibly say that hasn't already been said? On the other hand, how could I ignore it? It was a day that changed our world forever. It was a day that touched the lives of my family, friends and neighbors. It was a day that changed our country and maybe for the first time, made us feel vulnerable as a nation.
After hearing the news, I left work and after what seemed to be an endless commute home, I turned on the TV and watched in utter disbelief. I kept thinking to myself...
this could not really be happening. I would walk out my front door and look to the sky. It was eerily silent. No planes coming or going from nearby JFK. Occasionally I would hear the scream of a military jet, an unfamiliar sound around these parts. The sky was a different color and the smoke obscured the western sky for days. I remember going down the beach with Melissa and seeing U.S. Naval ships sitting off the coast of Long Beach. I remember telling her that they were there to protect us and that everything would be OK. I think I was trying to convince myself. This really
was happening, and
it was too real.
The weeks and months that followed were filled with sadness and fear. What I came to realize in the following days, is that I should never take anything for granted. All these years, I would say goodbye to Paul and my kids as they left the house in the morning, but never really bothered to be truly thankful upon their returned. They were
supposed to return. It was
expected that they would return. It was something that I just took for granted. On September 11, 2001, too many people who were expected to return, never returned home to their loved ones.
Every year, the world becomes a more complicated place. I was thinking about that a lot when I started this post a few days ago. Sometimes I wish we could just go back to that safe and secure feeling that we had as children. Perhaps we were really no safer, we just didn't know any better.
THE RECIPE
When I was growing up, my best friend's father had a beautiful vegetable garden. He also had a few plum trees in the backyard. One tree produced beautiful, juicy red plums. The other tree produced small dark plums with green insides. Those small dark plums with the green insides were also very tart and just didn't compare with the taste of the red juicy plums. The red plums were the prize plums. The little dark plums were usually left on the tree, feeling sad and dejected, until they fell to the ground and turned to mush. We called those plums "ockies". I have no idea why, but that became their name for all time.