Six weeks before 9/11 I moved to NYC and stayed for the next 11 years. The biggest comfort in being there was that I could walk down the street at any time, see for myself what was going on (rather than getting the regurgitated, 24 hour news cycle version of events) and process with my fellow New Yorkers the grief we were experiencing.
For the longest time, it felt like the rubble would always be there, the bodies would never be recovered, the healing would never begin. As slow as the process was, the end goal was always clear, because it was constantly in front of us. And for the longest time, it was all we could see... until the last of the last truck of wreckage was removed. It was a solemn, but definitive day.
I suspect that part of the reason we need something to help us grieve COVID is because the end goal is only as visible as what's immediately in front of us, and even that isn't a consistent, tangible thing. For some of us, it's a negative result after three weeks of testing positive, for others, it's the spike in the number of patients we see in our clinics, or the number of people masking up at the grocery store.
What's more, the depth of our struggles are defined by the degree of our privilege and entitlement, as demonstrated in the 2020 Christmas letter I received from a person who complained that her annual trip to the Bahamas was marred by having to buy $25,000 travel insurance (so they could "find their own way home" on a private flight) lest someone in her family contracted COVID on their vacation. (But not a word about the consequences for the countless Nassau residents and flight crew who'd be infected as a result of such holidayus interruptus.)
After the WTC attacks, it drove me crazy when I'd see bumperstickers boldly proclaiming "United We Stand" because we'd forgotten the whole point of the adage: "Divided We Fall." It's almost is if COVID is the sequel meant to teach us that lesson. (And don't even get me started about the delusion that things must "return to normal"...)
We're not just suffering PTSD and grieving unimaginable loss. We're in a state of total disconnect.
And part of why these feelings might seem insurmountable is because -- unlike the rubble in Lower Manhattan -- this global pandemic doesn't have a visible metric of its progress.
I wish I could offer a solution for how we can collectively grieve, or share a concrete answer about
what healing will eventually look like. Instead, I'm sending you, Walter (oh please, for the love of all things comedy, let him be a real-life farting dog!!) and your readers a great big hug and hold you all in my heart. I hope you can feel my love bursting through your computer screens.
Thank you for this post - both the 9/11 and COVID pieces. I was in NYC then. I was due to be at my job in Battery Park but got rerouted to the Bronx location, later walking home to Queens over the TriBoro Bridge (never intended for pedestrian traffic and now I know why - it shakes like a mofo). I watched the towers smoldering and breathed in the smell of death and destruction the whole way home. I went home and numbed myself with prescription painkillers. What an awful time for us all.
COVID didn’t kill me, but it came damn near close. For anyone grieving losses, check out Marked By COVID: https://www.markedbycovid.com/
My trauma from 2001 stems from being an active duty army spouse stationed in upstate NY, a 5-hr drive away from the devastation. Everything changed. The hassle of TSA? We had random vehicle inspections driving thru the main gate just trying to get home from the shopping mall. And we accepted every inconvenience in the name of security.
As you said, there is such a different feeling surrounding the trauma of Covid. No acceptance of inconveniences even when they could mean life or death for those at risk. A friend of mine kept talking about the percentage of life lost in the first year by saying “only .1% have died”.
This is your blog spot. Your voice. Your thoughts. No need to apologize for posting what your heart and brain are expressing. It is tragic. They are both tragic. What can we learn from both situations of great loss? What do we need to learn from them? Tomorrow is not promised to any of us. Tell people who are important in your life- they matter. -Karen
Why can't there be a National Remembrance Day? Where we as a country just stop working for a day and come together. I was talking to a co-worker and they said they totally forgot about today. That's my fear-people forgetting.
Dear Mo,
Six weeks before 9/11 I moved to NYC and stayed for the next 11 years. The biggest comfort in being there was that I could walk down the street at any time, see for myself what was going on (rather than getting the regurgitated, 24 hour news cycle version of events) and process with my fellow New Yorkers the grief we were experiencing.
For the longest time, it felt like the rubble would always be there, the bodies would never be recovered, the healing would never begin. As slow as the process was, the end goal was always clear, because it was constantly in front of us. And for the longest time, it was all we could see... until the last of the last truck of wreckage was removed. It was a solemn, but definitive day.
I suspect that part of the reason we need something to help us grieve COVID is because the end goal is only as visible as what's immediately in front of us, and even that isn't a consistent, tangible thing. For some of us, it's a negative result after three weeks of testing positive, for others, it's the spike in the number of patients we see in our clinics, or the number of people masking up at the grocery store.
What's more, the depth of our struggles are defined by the degree of our privilege and entitlement, as demonstrated in the 2020 Christmas letter I received from a person who complained that her annual trip to the Bahamas was marred by having to buy $25,000 travel insurance (so they could "find their own way home" on a private flight) lest someone in her family contracted COVID on their vacation. (But not a word about the consequences for the countless Nassau residents and flight crew who'd be infected as a result of such holidayus interruptus.)
After the WTC attacks, it drove me crazy when I'd see bumperstickers boldly proclaiming "United We Stand" because we'd forgotten the whole point of the adage: "Divided We Fall." It's almost is if COVID is the sequel meant to teach us that lesson. (And don't even get me started about the delusion that things must "return to normal"...)
We're not just suffering PTSD and grieving unimaginable loss. We're in a state of total disconnect.
And part of why these feelings might seem insurmountable is because -- unlike the rubble in Lower Manhattan -- this global pandemic doesn't have a visible metric of its progress.
I wish I could offer a solution for how we can collectively grieve, or share a concrete answer about
what healing will eventually look like. Instead, I'm sending you, Walter (oh please, for the love of all things comedy, let him be a real-life farting dog!!) and your readers a great big hug and hold you all in my heart. I hope you can feel my love bursting through your computer screens.
Your pal,
Erin
Erin, this is so good. So accurate. Thank you! ❤️
Thank you, Mo! <3 <3 <3
Thank you for this post - both the 9/11 and COVID pieces. I was in NYC then. I was due to be at my job in Battery Park but got rerouted to the Bronx location, later walking home to Queens over the TriBoro Bridge (never intended for pedestrian traffic and now I know why - it shakes like a mofo). I watched the towers smoldering and breathed in the smell of death and destruction the whole way home. I went home and numbed myself with prescription painkillers. What an awful time for us all.
COVID didn’t kill me, but it came damn near close. For anyone grieving losses, check out Marked By COVID: https://www.markedbycovid.com/
I’m glad you are here ❤️
My trauma from 2001 stems from being an active duty army spouse stationed in upstate NY, a 5-hr drive away from the devastation. Everything changed. The hassle of TSA? We had random vehicle inspections driving thru the main gate just trying to get home from the shopping mall. And we accepted every inconvenience in the name of security.
As you said, there is such a different feeling surrounding the trauma of Covid. No acceptance of inconveniences even when they could mean life or death for those at risk. A friend of mine kept talking about the percentage of life lost in the first year by saying “only .1% have died”.
That word ONLY really gets me. Just no.
The number is huge!!! It was someone’s ONLY mother, father, child, neighbor, friend. Oofa.
I have been wanting some type of remembrance or memorial. I wonder sometimes if the lack of memorial is due to the huge divide in our country.
So sad
I wonder too. All sides lost. 🌸
This is your blog spot. Your voice. Your thoughts. No need to apologize for posting what your heart and brain are expressing. It is tragic. They are both tragic. What can we learn from both situations of great loss? What do we need to learn from them? Tomorrow is not promised to any of us. Tell people who are important in your life- they matter. -Karen
Thank you, Karen. And great point in your question. What is to learn? Yes. ❤️🌸
Why can't there be a National Remembrance Day? Where we as a country just stop working for a day and come together. I was talking to a co-worker and they said they totally forgot about today. That's my fear-people forgetting.
Or even a WORLDWIDE REMEMBRANCE #blessx
Yes! 🌸
YES.