Back to Normal

As I was focused on Belle Harbor during the storm, I was taken back eleven years ago to the last time that this neighborhood had to withstand disaster. We were all affected by 9/11, but no place endured such a human cost as here. The following piece was what I wrote back then to help me get back to normal. I thought of it now.

What a smile! What a wonderful, beautiful smile!

Actually, she was laughing. And judging by the look on her companion's face, I assumed it's her husband, he was the reason for her joyous expression. Most likely he is one of those natural comedians. A joy giver.

I also got the impression that he's ben doing this to her for a lifetime.

I'd guess they were in their seventies. Cruising at barely the speed limit in the middle lane of the Belt Parkway on a lovely autumn morning in Queens NY. Late morning. After rush hour.

I was passing them when the corner of my eye was caught by the spasms of her laughing. I slowed down and kept glancing in my side mirror at them. He kept cajoling her and she kept laughing. Sharing her wonderful expression with any who wanted to take the time to notice. An expression that advertised a special relationship between two human beings. A lifelong specialness.

It was just what the doctor ordered for me.

This hadn't been a month of joyful relations between the human beings in my segment of life. Pressure, confusion, and frustration at work. Tension and bickering at home. The markets were tumbling in the aftermath of 9/11. The world was tumbling into alliances and alignments for the forthcoming War on Terrorism. My spirits were tumbling just as deep and just as fast.

Three of my friends were lost int he World Trade Center attack. Two other friends lost brothers. Memorial services were being held to help the survivors survive. To put closure on an unfathomable incident. To heal the gaping emotional wounds, the deep belligerent feelings, and the pervasive hopelessness of it all. I had a chance to attend two of these services, but the pressures of life, my life, wouldn't afford me the time to go to more.

My children still need me to get them to and from school. My family still needs my financial contributions. My company still needs my dedication and best efforts. My wife still needs my love and companionship. The country still needs me to spend my money.

Our President, our Governor, the Mayor, all the politicians talk about us getting back to normal as fast as possible. Show these bastards that they can't win. They can't overcome the indominable force that is the American way of life. Our life. My life. Your life.

They say we need to go on vacations. Go to shows. Fly. Stay at hotels. Eat out. We need to buy stocks. Invest in America. Invest in the American way of life. Our life. My life. Your life.

A life of liberty. A life of freedoms. A life of guaranteed rights to those freedoms. We must protect the rights to all these freedoms, for all American citizens. That way, we win.

The flying, vacationing, eating, are all good for those industries hurt most from this tragedy. The investing is good for the economy.

What's good for us?

One thing is the memorial services. Those opportunities to pause from living our lives so we can remember the lives we were close to and regret that a terrorist ended it.

A terrorist, not a Muslim.

A terrorist: someone who believes in death, not an afterlife. Someone who believes in violence, not peace. Someone who hates. Hates so badly that he cowers behind a religion. A religion that holds precious the same things as Jews, Catholics, Baptists, etc.

We all need an end to terrorism, especially the Muslims. They need them gone so the millions of Muslim who lead honorable, valuable lives can stop looking over their shoulders. So they can start to enjoy their own lives.

But what do I need to get back to normal? My life? I need a joyous smile from a passenger in a grey Lincoln. I need for the people in my community to look past power, control, governance, politics, war, violence, revenge, business, money, and see the value of life. Our life. My life. Your life.

What could be more precious than the knowledge that no matter how ingenious and nefarious the terrorist plots, no matter how cold their hearts are, that there will always be people sharing their lives in communities of friendship and joy.

That is the power that will destroy terrorism.

Not the trips. Not the shows. Nor the investments. The money. Even the military actions. All may help, but it is the communities that carry on their lives that wins.