I began this piece around September 5th. I got the bulk of it down and then on September 10th I began to feel that same old sensation of: Just go to another room, Moira. I wanted to publish it on September 11th but I don't feel safe until I get to September 12th. Today being September 15th I feel I am in the clear. I can't stop that feeling. That sensation. The feeling that if I don't just put my head down and steady myself and keep going I will burst into tears. Today I feel like I can write safely; it's all done and dusted -- at least until next year. Last year was meant to be the first and last time I talked about September 11th, 2001. Two thousand twenty was also the first time I watched any memorial type rehash of that day. I was only able to watch whatever it was with one eye open and I made excuses to leave the room to deal with things in other rooms telling myself I could hear from elsewhere. I have been happiest remembering 9/11 when I am safely in Septemb...
mostly gentle, sometimes turbulent