September 11th remains a somber day. More than a decade later, I’m still transported to my Back Bay apartment when I first watched a commercial airliner fly into the second World Trade Center building in New York City. I wasn’t able to process what I saw on TV that morning. And in the days that followed I’d continue to struggle, realizing my good friend had been on the plane I had watched crash into the World Trade Center.
As I spent the next week with Sergio and our mutual friends Becky & Lisa, cleaning out his apartment to send his belongings back to his elderly parents who lived in the north of England, and to friends both near and far – I kept replaying in my mind both the scene from TV of the crash as well as our last time together just a few days earlier.
Time hasn’t quite erased that image of the plane’s collision – nothing ever will – but it doesn’t dominate my thoughts the way it once did. However, each year at this time I inevitably think of my friend – thankful that I’d had the chance to be his friend and sad to think how our friendship was cut short.