Suddenly the light is fading, and we are rushing towards the close of the Jewish year, and the opening of the gates. The Days of Awe are always a powerful time – raw, stripped down, peaceful, and hard, all at once. You’re confronting what you did wrong over the last year, what you did right, and holding yourself accountable. But this year The Days of Awe and 9/11 coincide, on a year when my memories are hitting me pretty hard. People mentioned on the post earlier today that loss ebbs and flows, sometimes it’s a dull ache, sometimes it’s as near to you as the day it happened. And for me, at 21, living through terror, and then living next to death, was a kind of a loss. A moment where your life is ripped in two and is never the same again. And this year the loss is close again. On the rare days when I talk about what happened that day, David sometimes asks me if it gets better over time. And I say that over time you think about it less. But the moments when it catches you off gard: a news story on the radio, an image, the fall light on a clear blue day, on those moments it’s as close as the day you woke to a building shaking roar, and sirens. I doubt that ever goes away.
So. The gates are opening, and we’re marking nine years. Nine years since the horror and the terror and the compassion. Nine years, and the opening gates.
And to think I just sat down to write that I was taking tomorrow off for Rosh Hashanah. Oops.
So to all of you that are Jewish, or Jewishly affiliated, L’shanah tovah tikatevi v’taihatem. May you be sealed for a good year. May these days of wonder be peaceful and reflective and healing for each of you. To the rest of you, I’ll see you on Friday.