We should not forget

The morning of September 11, 2001 marked the tenth anniversary of my mother’s premature passing.   I remember it was a beautiful morning, and I woke up in peace that day after having a dream where my mother was making a white pillow case for me.  She was embellishing it with lace, it was very life like.   We were together again, sharing our love for each other in a simple moment.  When I was getting ready to go to work, I thought of buying flowers in her memory on my way back home.   But, just a couple of hours later, the whole world started to crumble.   We felt the second impact across the river.  The waters of the Hudson made that brutal hit travel to the other side.  The earth shook under our feet.  Then we were paralyzed with astonishment, life stopped for a while.   I don’t want to repeat right now everything that happened, everybody knows it.  It is still too painful to remember.  I tried to contact my husband, who works in New York, but I could not reach him.  We did not see each other until the next day. At noon I collected myself and went back home walking, It was like a ghost town.   Suddenly I saw my favorite flower shop in front of me.  The lady inside looked pale and sad; I talked to her, but we could not make any sense of what was happening.  I told her I needed to buy flowers, not only for my mother, it was now for all the innocent people, from all walks of life, who died so senselessly at the hands of evil, that bright blue morning in September. 

America Lenza, the only grandchild my mother got to know, with New York City in the background

photo Aymara Lorente