Giving way to light

by Nancy Quinones – 

It was the year 2001 in Upstate New York.  I was pregnant carrying my first child. I wanted everything to be so perfect for my little baby girl’s arrival! Even her bedroom, which was gender neutral, was adorned with the John Lennon “Imagine” theme. There were blankets, sheets, stuffed animals, onesies, and wallpaper border,  which had the small, simple drawings of different animals which John had sketched for his own son Sean. The main color of the room was yellow, which matched my mood completely: happy, excited, and secure. My husband and I had a home, jobs, two cars, close friends, and some family who lived locally. Everything was going as planned with the pregnancy. Things couldn’t have seemed more perfect.  Then, a month and three days after she was born, the September 11 attacks happened.

My thoughts immediately turned to my daughter. What kind of world am I bringing her into? As a young girl, I had always loved the Twin Towers. To me they were majestic and exciting! I identified it with the pride of being a New Yorker. When they went down, it was a direct hit to my own identity somehow. In the hours that followed, I watched the news coverage in horror. There were visions of white ash floating in the air, and constant playback of the building being hit over and over again. It seemed the atmosphere around me was thick with uncertainty and disbelief. The grief that I felt was overwhelming, and I was not alone, the attack hit everyone hard. My personal world was also in crisis. A reality that I knew I had to change. I think the attack made me more aware of my own reality. My baby’s father was physically abusing me, and had been for 7 years. I knew I had to get out of the marriage for my baby’s sake, and for my own.

As the days slowly rolled into autumn, my father and I had many discussions about the 9/11 attacks. The buildings were gone. They could probably be replaced someday, but what about the innocent people who were killed? We knew none of them, but the most unsettling thought on my mind was that this attack had a connection to my own life somehow. It was a parallel between violence and courage. My father, a native New Yorker, born and raised in the city, was deeply disturbed by the loss of innocent lives, and the utter violation bestowed upon our country. We talked a lot about feeling a sense of heaviness, like a depression. Our lives would never be the same. My own life was about to change as well.

A year later- I had made some very drastic decisions. I filed for divorce and became a single mom. A few years later, I ended up finishing my Bachelor’s degree in Human Development.  I lost the house. While I was on maternity leave, my husband had stopped paying the mortgage. I made a decision that life is going to be what I make it. Life was hard: I struggled, I cried, I was angry, afraid, worried, and lonely sometimes. There were times I knew I was truly blessed, and times I was just lucky. Through it all, I came to understand that I could not have made it with my daughter the way I did without the support of people in my life that helped me along the way. I was never alone, because I had somehow built a small network of “single mom” friends, and students from the university where I worked. They came in and went; passing through my life like temporary, helpful angels. Only a few stayed constant, but that was ok. I was grateful for them all!

I realized that human beings really are fragile, life really is too short, but somehow still beautiful.  I was determined to make my new life work with my little daughter. My daughter made life beautiful. It was the little things that you wouldn’t expect to find beauty in. As a result of others helping me, I found a career where I am able to help people too.

Something amazing happened in our country and in my life after those attacks. It was a brave and courageous example of how out of tragedy came patriotism, and team-work of the utmost degree. The stories of bravery and sacrifice were inspirational. At the time, we were all feeling sadness, and uncertainty, but the unification of New Yorkers, and Americans proved how resilient we really were as a nation and as human beings. This sense of patriotism trickled down into all of our individual lives. I was truly inspired by it. It is proof that someone’s life can be changed forever by the courage of what others do in the face of such a horrifying tragedy.

We all do the best that we can with the capabilities and resources we have. It is true that there are people out there that do give up, that want to see bad things happen to someone else, or that just don’t know how to make things change, so they do what is familiar. Humans crave the familiar, which isn’t always the best for us. We are all creatures of habit at times.  I have seen proof in my own life that when faced with adversity, all is not lost! That if one person just reaches out to another person, this can make all the difference between life and death.  Sometimes, all people need is to be heard, and their feelings to be affirmed; not minimized. Before we produce turmoil, can we imagine how compassion feels and looks? I think we can, and we have, and we can do it again.

Nancy Quinones has a Bachelor of Science in Human Development from Binghamton University. She works at Lakeview Health Services as a Transitional Case Manager.  She currently lives in Seneca Falls, N Y, and is working on writing a collection of short stories.