It has been four years since the day that altered my being to the core.
Many things have happened since then.
It was three years ago that she began to gently mend my shattered heart.
It was a little more than two years ago that I “officially” stepped from the shadow of anonymity into the light, yet admittedly keeping some parts of me in the shadow.
It’s been little less than a year that I started what I consider to be my most ambitious project to date.
Change.
It happens as we live and as we learn.
It’s a lie that “time heals all wounds”. Instead what time affords us is the lessons we need to better handle and manipulate the grief. It doesn’t become easier to smile, we just become better at controlling the corners of our mouth. Last year, I stopped posting about DJ every 21st of the month. I don’t grieve any less nor does one day go by when I don’t think about him, I just became better at controlling the keys my fingers would strike.
Priorities change. Things that perhaps once I cared about so passionately, now not so much. Things that perhaps once would have angered me, now not so much. I try to keep in mind that while these things don’t matter to me as much, to others they are very important. Most of the time that keeps me in check… but there are sometimes when I do slip and proverbially shake people wondering why they care about the small stuff, because when it comes to family everything else is just that… small stuff.
Change.
Some things change, but some things don’t.
The love and support I have gotten from my blogging friends has never faltered. It has often carried me during the day in one way or another. They say once it’s on the internet, you can never take it back… and believe me I am more than okay with that because there’s a whole lotta love out there. Of this, I assure you.
Still some things haven’t changed. While I no longer run to the burning building, I still walk to it. While I no longer rush through the streets, I still drive through them destined for something that death, pain, and misery will have a hand in. Perhaps I am more acutely aware of my own mortality, but still lacking a normal sense of self-preservation that I continue to do what I know how to do the best way I know how.
To admittedly “borrow” a term from another blogger… I am a grief mop for those who are overcome at the moment. Of course what good is a mop that hasn’t been wrung? It seems no matter how many times I came back here to wring myself out, I’d just get soaked up again. At times it feels like futile effort.
I still wonder if I had done everything I could to prevent this, and if not what should I have done instead? I still wonder if I had done something different, would the outcome have been different or was it that whole concept of fate running its course? I still wonder, for today as opposed to four years ago, what would he have to say or want to do? What would he want to be? And therein lies my problem, because I still torture myself with the ”What ifs?” In doing so am I repeating my past mistakes?
These are questions I will never get the definitive answer to nor do I expect one. It’s just the things that can keep me awake at night… doubts that creep into my being and set me on tilt. It’s my inquisitive side run rampant.
However, there is one question that I have no doubt what the answer would be…
categories: Personal Memories Remembering DJ
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Anyone who knows me knows I really am not big into birthday celebrations, especially my own. I have a theory about birthdays that I may or may not have already shared, but I will today:
- • When your born it’s a big deal because you are not not only a consumer of oxygen but officially a tax deduction
• When you turn 1 years old it’s a big deal because the chances of you not surviving from SIDS reduces dramatically
• When you turn 7 years old it’s a big deal because 7 is a luck number
• When you turn 10 years old it’s a big deal because you are finally a decade old and into double digits
• When you turn 13 years old it’s a big deal because you are officially a teenager and therefore, by default, rotten
• When you turn 16 years old it’s a big deal because your parents make it a big deal and everyone expects you to suddenly go from rotten to sweet
• When you turn 18 years old it’s a big deal because you’re now allowed to vote and can be drafted to die for your country, even though you can’t drink
• When you turn 20 years old you’re no longer a teenager and therefore you are suddenly mature
• When you turn 21 years old it’s a big deal because you’re now able to drink and demonstrate just how immature you can really be
After that, there are two milestones left…
- • When you turn 25 years old it’s a big deal because you finally come out of the assigned risk category for car insurance
• When you turn 65 years old it’s a big deal because you can now finally collect Social Security… at least for now
Today I observe one of those milestones on his behalf because a milestone is still a milestone… and today he’d be 10.
Happy birthday buddy.
We all miss you.
We all love you.
So three years ago today I went to see Cloverfield with a “friend” (who at the time was codenamed Buttery). It was a good movie, although I’m still waiting for the sequel or at least that slushi Japanese product that was linked to it to come to market.
Of course, the REAL story didn’t end after the credits were done and the lights came on…
… and my life has been richer for it.
For all those things that other people want medals… she deserves a monument for putting up with me for 3 FRIGGIN’ YEARS!!!
Happy anniversary Poppy!
I 
You!!!
It has been 4,207,680 minutes since 9:59am on September 11, 2001. It was on that clear, crisp, perfectly blue skied Tuesday September morning where blood from all nations was spilled on American soil for the first time since the attack on Pearl Harbor in 1941. My city, our nation, and everyone’s world was irrevocably changed.
The tree of liberty must be refreshed from time to time with the blood of patriots and tyrants.
-Thomas Jefferson
For me, the heralds of that change was the sound through the dust cloud that had consumed me of American fighter jets above the city skies. To others that change was evident by what they saw on television, or maybe the longer security checkpoints at airports. Perhaps it was the so called political scare tactics they were subjected to attempting to justify the limiting of civil liberties, or even hugging their loved ones goodbye to fight the proverbial “war on terror” that has resulted in the spilling of more blood than I think anyone had ever expected. For others it was perhaps that they realized that the masses would be held accountable for the actions of a few and that middle age prejudices continue to run deeper than originally thought in the “melting pot”.
That’s not what today is about. Today is not about remembering the evil that a person is capable of, the inconvenience of air travel, real estate deals, politicians we elected not preserving or rights and freedoms, the incineration of books that have committed no crime, or the attempted gentrification of a religion. You have 364 other days for all that.
Today is about remembering the conscious sacrifice made by one for another in their greatest time of need without regard for race, creed, or political beliefs. Today is about remembering that while all sacrificed some… there are those who sacrificed all. I ask that you remember this today and leave everything else for another time.
It has been 4,733,280 minutes since the South Tower of the World Trade Center at Liberty Street and West Street collapsed. I ask that you specifically remember the following nine Emergency Medical Service Responders who perished in that collapse:
Carlos Lillo
Ricardo Quinn
Keith Fairben
Mark Schwartz
David Sullins
volunteer Zhe Zang
my friend Mario Santoro
my friend and vollie dispatcher Richard Pearlman
and my friend and partner Yamel Merino
All sacrificed some… some sacrificed all… so that others may live
Dear BlogHer10 Attendees,
It is once again that time when a horde of estrogen charged women and wistfully wishing for more estrogen men descend on a city to feel womanly and rawr with their bad drunken selves. I think this kind of bonding is great. We men do it on a semi-more regular basis with a lot less fanfare and at a cheaper price at this place we call “The Bar”, but to each their own.
This year you will be invading New York City, which happens to be where I live. Now while I highly recommend you follow Avitable’s Guide To BlogHer so that perhaps you’ll actually get more out of the experience than some cheap swag, and I highly recommend the PoppyCede’s Guide To Subways so that perhaps you’ll get to actually take home that cheap swag, I have a few things that I want to offer myself…
NYCWD’s Common Sense Guide To BlogHer For The Common Sense Challenged
- Watch where you are walking. I know this might seem simplistic, but the problem is most people become entranced by the height of our concrete and steel buildings… and inadvertently step in front of a bus a la The Final Destination. If this happens, 911 will undoubtedly be called for you but we make no guarantees to your survivability
- Tip appropriately. The recommended NYC tipping rate is 18-25% of your bill… including the tax. If you can’t do simple math then try using the advanced feature on all your smartphones called The Calculator. Failure to submit the appropriate tip my result in verbal and physical harm. If this happens, 911 will undoubtedly be called for you but we make no guarantees for your freedom
- Know your place. Now I know in your minds this event is a huge deal, and in your minds you’re taking the city by storm! So if there are 2,500 BlogHer attendees, that’s a whopping 0.0001% of the daytime NYC population. Your number will rise a little bit in the evening, but not that much. Keep this in mind when you are asking for directions (use actual NYC names instead of the fabricated Bloggy names) and undoubtedly taking photos (because even though public view is legally allowable, people may not want to be either inconvenienced by your 30 minute pose while the camera phone focuses or captured by your constant clicking). Failure to be cognizant of this may result in a pedestrian collision or your camera being smashed by a raging commuter. If this happens, 911 will undoubtedly be called for you but we make no guarantees for amnesty of the required photo permits.
- DO NOT THREATEN THE CROC GUY WITH NEGATIVE BLOG POSTS IN EXCHANGE FOR SWAG! That is called extortion. We already have an organization that does that. You may have heard them. They’re called the Mafia. Failure to adhere to this may result in Tommy Two Tones and Chuckles visiting you on an elevator. If this happens, well, 911 won’t be called for you but we can guarantee that you will become fast friends with your new room mate… Jimmy Hoffa.
- If you have a traumatic or medical emergency, call 911 and NOT 311. This shit happens all the time. Some tourist comes in, gets stabbed, and says, “Oh, I’ll just call the City of New York!” and dials the wrong number… and then they die. However just remember that when the ambulance arrives after calling the correct number, they’re going to take you to the hospital. That’s what they do because they are in essence an extension of the healthcare system. The ambulances will come in different sizes and shapes, but are all equipped equally and the personnel have the same training. Don’t worry about insurance or who’s going to pay for it, because ultimately your health comes first. Unless you’re Canadian in which case you’ll need to pay in cash upfront because your government won’t pay us for treating their citizens. We’ll also take Visa, MasterCard, and AMEX but there is a %5 additional service fee. Yes Canada, we blame you for our broken ass healthcare system.
In conclusion, please have a great time, thanks for coming, and be sure to take your trash with you when you leave.
*SMOOCHES* *BEOTCHES*
-NYCWD
