We all grieve differently and sometimes we just need some type of closure to be okay with the pain. On Monday November 14th, I was given the chance to get that closure by going to the World Trade Center Observatory.
It's been fifteen years but that horrific event has shaped my life into what it is now. I talk about my childhood life and how I knew I had anxiety at the age of seven, but what triggered my anxiety to be more powerful and continuous was 9/11. Ever since then, I viewed the world as a hostile place to live, never really feeling safe.
Now that I'm older and a bit wiser, I understand that somewhere in between the feelings of negativity living with my anxiety and the positivity of overcoming the obstacles, is a cathartic moment that I've been yearning to feel. I never realized that what I could have needed was the strength to go there again and allow all the memories to relive themselves so that I could view that beautiful city that I see everyday, the way I used to as a child.
It was a bit odd because the Observatory was filled with tourists and younger generations that were not affected by the attack the way that I was and because of that I really didn't want to cry. But as the people's eyes were filled with wonderment while we were in the elevator, mine filled with tears and fear. I started to cry because I remembered all the memories of taking the elevators with my mother and father figure. I'd play in the elevator with my father and we'd scare each other until my mother would yell at us both.
I remember running through the hallways and giving my mother mini heart attacks because I'd stand near the windows and even though she knew I couldn't fall through, a mother is always scared for her child. I remember taking naps under my mother's desk and how I created my own little world beneath it. The workers became a second family and I was all of their child.
When we reached the top, the view left me breathless. It was still the same beautiful one I got to see when I was younger, except for a few new buildings, I was transported back. Back to a time when the world was my playground and I never had to fear, back to a time where I felt whole and powerful. A time where traditions were made and never broken.
I finally was able to see that view again and even though the nostalgia was suffocating me to tears, I needed it. I needed to cry the memories out because I've kept them within myself for too long. No one will ever really understand the emotion unless they too have been in the situation but I finally was able to enjoy the view and get into my photographer mode to take a few shots.
Below are some photos I shot and a video recorded by Brian. Hope you guys enjoy.