9/11

It's strange how when disaster strikes you remember only pertinent little things about that day and forever more. I remember getting a call from my dad asking why I was still in bed that morning. He asked if I had any idea what was going on. I didn't. I was still in bed. I ran to the tv and watched in horror as the second plane hit the tower. I remember driving around that day in a daze; not wanting to talk to anyone, or smile at anything. I made the calls to my friends in NY and made sure they were all safe. Then, at around 8 pm, I got a call from Keren. She told me that Lisa was on the second flight. I didn't know what to do. I just sat in disbelief. I called my best friend and had a good cry about it. September 11th became a whole lot more personal after that phone call. Every year, I try to think about Lisa and the friendship I had with her. I went to Ground Zero Dec. 2001 and there were little girls giving out hot chocolate. I couldn't stand being there longer than 20 minutes. I hopped in cab and got the earliest flight back to Boston.
It's crazy how every year until this one, this date has been easier to deal with. This year was different though. This year, Keren was killed. September 11th now has a whole new feeling for me. My one connection to Lisa has passed away. The one person I knew I could share my grief with today is gone as well. Tried to stay home and keep busy so I wouldn't be as upset about it.
How does a day of solemnity turn into a day of double-duty mourning?