For nearly two decades I’d wake up on 9/11 and wish I could forget the sights, sounds and smells on that day back in 2001. Every step I took after I boarded a path train from the Grove Street Station in Jersey City, NJ to Manhattan was etched in my head. I worked long days alongside my coworkers providing news coverage of the tragedy.

What was I remember most is the paralyzing fear I felt when I couldn’t reach my mom or coworkers who were in “the zone.” This was followed by the emptiness of the streets over the next few days, along with the stench in the air. I was grateful for those who made it home that day but I was unaware of the day’s lasting mark. 

I woke up today wishing I could go back to that September 11, 2001. At least back then my mom was alive. She survived running away from a dust cloud from the twin towers. She made it through a night on the floor on Grand Central covered in dust. She did this only to die from cancer likely caused by it five years ago today. I miss my mommy! 

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