Friday, September 12, 2014

The 9-11 Effect

There is something I have noticed in relation to both 9-11 and Don's death. I refer to it as "the 9-11 Effect." Remember right after 9-11, how NYC and America, became a totally different place, and people changed overnight from bitter, hurried grumps who didn't have a second to spare to patriotic, beautiful, generous, patient souls? Remember how in the wake of that awful horror, our city came together as one; with the mission of helping one another however we possibly could? Suddenly strangers talked to each other, held doors for one another, gave each other a smile or a hello. There was an instant chemistry and bonding between everyone who lived here; as if every person you saw looked at you with their eyes and said: "I get it. I understand your pain." You saw American flags on the outside of every home, people lit candles in the streets and prayed for humankind, for peace. Everyone put aside their differences and their attitudes and really came together. It was a thing of beauty. And then it was over. After awhile, the newness of the fear of that day went away, and with it, so did the unity. The flags started to come down, doors were slammed in your face once again, and people began to move on with their lives, and NY became moody NY again. 

The same thing happened when Don died. Within minutes of hearing about his sudden death, I was overwhelmed by people. People came out of the woodwork for me. People I literally haven't heard from in years, sometimes decades, were offering their support and love to me, reaching out in various different ways. My voice-mail flooded with messages within hours. I think there were 56 messages on that first day. The texts were coming at me like wildfire. I thought maybe I had become famous and just forgot. I couldn't keep up. The first three days and nights after it happened, there were a total of probably 16 people inside our tiny apartment. They came in shifts; sometimes overlapping. They brought food, and fruit baskets, and flowers, and love. My friend Matt was on crutches and hobbled his way from upstate NY just to be there for me. He could barely walk and looked like he was about to topple over, but he was there. My friend Shawn, who I haven't seen in years, buzzed my apartment door at 11:30 pm on the night of Don's death. I was there with my mom, and the second shift of friends had just left, when suddenly, Shawn appears. "I didn't know what to do, so I just came over."
The love and the comfort and the people continued to come days after that service, weeks even. Friends took me to lunch over and over. I had 567 lunches in a two week period. And then , slowly, the lunches diminished. The people went away. The responses to my Facebook status updates weren't as many. And that whole Air Force thing they do at the funeral? Sure, it was beautiful, and they really did love Don, but that was a standard military service. They do it for all their men and women. Later on though, when you try and receive some kind of survivors benefits because your husband served his country and served in WAR-time and was a Flight Crew Chief for almost 9 years - they are suddenly nowhere to be found. Suddenly the President doesn't care quite so much about Don's time in the service; because it wasn't enough time to qualify him for "retirement status". The honor, the pride, the flag ... its all part of the show. Just like people and their patriotism after 9-11. Unless you personally lost someone on that day or were personally affected, you begin to recover from it. You go back to the way you were before. Maybe not totally. Maybe some small part of you changes in some way. Maybe on a day like today, you acknowledge it, because you are supposed to. Because its an "anniversary" and that's what you do. Maybe you go all over social media and post things telling others to "Never Forget" and all that jazz. But anyone who was personally affected by it does not need to be told to never forget. Trust me, they never forget. 

And the thing is, I knew in my heart that it would happen like that with Don. I knew it and I felt it, because it happened after 9-11. All that patriotism and love, it was just temporary. It was real for some people, of course, but with others, it disappeared when the tragedy was no longer in their face. Days after losing Don, I remember telling a friend that I wasn't afraid of the right now, because I am surrounded by friends. I couldnt knock people off with a stick at that time, so that is not what scared me. What terrified me was the far away future. I was afraid of what would happen months and years down the road. I knew even back then, that some people would end up completely disappearing from my life, or decide that my new reality was just too uncomfortable for them to live in, even part-time. And that is exactly what has happened. Some people stuck around, others left. It's human nature. It didnt happen to them, so they eventually move on.
Its the 9-11 Effect. When the wound is fresh, ,and the fear and pain are immediate, the people will come. It is only now, three years later, that I am starting to figure out who my real friends will turn out to be, and who will simply fold up their American flag and put it back in the closet. 

15 comments:

  1. Kelley Lynn,
    You described it so perfectly. That is exactly what happened to me. I was invited over for Friday night dinners for a few months. Then the invitations dried up. I started to make new traditions so that I wouldn't feel the pain of a Friday night. My husband used to say that it was his favourite night of the week. I would cook a nice meal and we would eat in the dining room. It was special. I also needed people around me at the beginning. It was tough to be on my own. I am now getting more used to my own company when I want to spend time on my own. My reality has changed and I am still trying to adjust. Luckily, my close friends are still my close friends. However, some friends have shown their true colours. As you said, it is just too uncomfortable for some people to deal with my new situation and pain.
    Thanks again for your very insightful post.

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    1. Same for me Ruthie. Ive been lucky in that lots of my friends HAVE stuck around - but some did also disappear, and it just sort of hit me, this metaphor of how it was similar months after 9/11 here in NYC. A similar feeling ....

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  2. Kelley Lynn, as always, you have so artfully stated the sad reality of grief and the loss of "supposed" friends. My husband and I had a large group of friends who I foolishly thought would be there to help me endure this horrific grief. I was so wrong. After the initial outpouring of support and following my husband's celebration of life, I painfully discovered the difference between a true friend and an acquaintance. The reality of life is that our acquaintances will, one by one, walk in our shoes and have to endure facing the same pain and discovery of who their true friends are.

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  3. Kelley-
    I think it happens to everyone. My husband's friends were all there in the end and after my husband died. They brought over dinner for us, they were very supportive and told us to call anytime if we needed anything. Now, 3 years later, his best friend who he grew up with calls maybe once a year and a few others never call at all. I don't even hear from my brother in law ever. It's just human nature. We lost the loves of our lives, our soulmates. They lost a friend but they go on with their lives and their families. I guess I understand it, but i don't like it. Like you said, someday they will face the same fate when the lose their loved one. I hate to sound bitter, but I can't help it.

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    1. Everything you said is true with me too! My husband died in a plane crash and for a month or so people were checking in. I felt I would surely starve to death because I couldn't face fixing a meal for me alone. I would busy myself with workouts and drink protein shakes. Three years later I am still dealing with the loneliness. I force myself to go out and make new friends to fill Friday date nite. Hard part is home ownership and no one is there to help when things break. At first I felt a sense of accomplishment to learn how to fix things. All I do now is dread when I will find the time or energy to fix it. Dating is a nightmare. You don't sound bitter to the group of us who know the reality of our lives. All the other wives complain about thier husbands..it makes me mad.

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    2. Hello , I can relate , no one there anymore.. When it breaks or needs a mans attention.. I do have a wonderful! Son Ty Jesus!! Or ??? I just don't knw, 34 yrs gone.......

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  4. Hello, I can rate to every post.. All true.. Same here.. People mean well, truly do, they just don't knw what to do or what u need..all u Need is yr Love one back, but never Gona happen..hang in there , it's all we can do

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  5. Yup. Totally get this. I remember writing about it in my journal asking the question as I approached year 2, "where did everyone go?". I hope you have found those even if few who have stood by you and still standing next to you through it all -- because it's a long journey ahead. (sigh)

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  6. Spot on. Thanks for saying what I've been thinking.

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  7. From the day my husband was killed to the day after the funeral people were always here. I think I was in so much shock I am not sure whether I actually interacted with anyone much. People handed me food, which was nice, and were nice to the kids which was good. The day after the funeral, poof, most were gone and I was very alone trying to figure out back to school and holidays on my own(he was killed three years ago August 10). It was a very dark, lonely time. I liken that week between his death and the funeral to a sad party. It was easy to be here because nobody had to be one on one with me. They could talk to each other, I was in a fog. After that ended and I was alone I realized most people just didn't want to look at the face of a tragedy.

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  8. I am at two and a half years. If my children and grandchildren (and my new post-death friends) didn't call me, the phone would never ring. We had an active and busy social life in our small town with lots and lots of 'friends.' We would all go out to eat somewhere on Thursday evenings. O N E couple has invited me to ride with them in all this time. I went and was treated well, but no one has called since. Your posts tell me it's normal, but it still hurts.

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    1. You are soooo right. Just because its "normal" or common among us, doesnt mean it still doesnt hurt like hell. It hurts. A LOT. Im so sorry that your "firends" have chosen to not be there for you anymore. xoxo ...

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  9. Sorry to say I can only chime in to say I share this experience. People go on with their lives, forget I'm sitting here alone...many still have never called or contacted me ever again, no invites...no phone calls. I'm no longer a couple...Mike isn't here to make them laugh...not sure, but it's like they chose him over me, and he's gone.

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  10. dear Kelley,

    what a sad, sad truth you have so eloquently written. I am so sorry for how you feel, and know exactly those same realities. once I realized that my phone didn't ring any more, that invitations were dwindling, I tried hard to put myself out there, calling friends to set up get togethers,, reaching out with e-mails, anything I could think of to re-connect. but it really didn't work out much of the time - if I left voice mail messages they weren't returned, and the same with e-mails. and even when I was able to find a friend to share time with, it always ended with them saying they would call to arrange another date to do something together again, but the call never came. after a while, I lost any courage I had and felt abandoned and like a pariah. the real killer was trying to make plans with 2 women "friends" from my widows' group - one never showed up for a dinner out we had planned, and the other woman cancelled at the last minute, and has never mentioned re-scheduling. just writing this makes me feel like a loser, but I know it is a universal theme. so I just keep trying to make new friends and it is amazing to find people I never knew from my "before" who are so kind and supportive and responsive. now I am slowly beginning to accept how things have changed, but it still hurts - big time. at least we all have each other here on this site so we know we are not alone. thanks for such an insightful and candid post. I love your writing and look forward to your Fridays' thoughts.

    much love,

    Karen

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    1. Kelley- Sometimes people lack both sense and sensibility. A month after Tom died. my friends husband offered to be my FWB. After I laughed,shook my head and politely declined. Our local drugstore erected a huge display of half priced,pressure cookers. This was put up the day after the Boston Marathon bombing. This is my new "normal." JR

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