I have been to New York so many times since September 11, 2001. And yet, this was my first visit here— to this memorial, to this space. It’s hard for me to find the words to describe it, or muster up the courage to write publicly about my feelings, except to say that being there was powerful and important and terribly, terribly sad.
Two reflecting pools, with their enormous expanse and cascading waters are the footprints of where the towers once stood. Below is a museum, dedicated to those who lost their lives and to the heroes who gave everything they had to save others. It was hard to be there, but important to me, too.
We wanted to go and pay our respects to the victims and the heroes of that day. I wanted to post these pictures as a tribute, to remember,
To spread kindness and compassion and love—
Always.
♥
I was in New York while they were building the Freedom Towers. They were still a good ways off from being completed, but you could see a kernel of what they look like now. That was two years ago. It was a very scary, very humbling, and soul-redifining moment for me walking through the streets, staring up at them, and then imagining what that day must have been like for civilians. It was a poignantly sinister experience. It made me so grateful to be alive. It also somehow made me want to move there. I couldn’t explain the reasoning behind that particular desire. Maybe that’s morbid. But I see New York as this resilient character in a 19th century epic novel. It has such scope and history; it’s seen so much, and has so much still to say. I don’t know. But at the time, it made me want to build a life there.