I have been writing a post about 9/11 every year. Maybe because 9/11 comes right around the Jewish High Holidays, I treat my archive of posts a little like a prayer book. I read my favorite – the first one – because it’s still incredible to me that I was at the World Trade Center when it fell.
I read some of the ones from the years right after that. The blog posts about the trauma of that day are also the posts that remind me of the most intimate times with my Ex.
We were both changed people after that day. My Ex started a career in social justice. He risked his own safety to protest false imprisonment. We took in a young kid of a Palestinian activist who was on the run. I stopped being a reliable breadwinner and started writing career advice from my kitchen counter because I was too traumatized to go back to an office and have a career.
And we had kids.
That moment when I could not breathe.