On the tenth anniversary of 9/11

(In Remembrance, November 2001)

Eight weeks after the tragic events of September 11th, I am still haunted by the memories of fleeing for my life. I still count my blessings that I was one of the more fortunate souls who found their way to safety on that fateful morning when New York City was changed forever. Undoubtedly, that morning touched us all as we say a prayer for our friends, loved ones, strangers, neighbors and local heroes - each of whom has left a special impression in our hearts.

It was a day marked by horrific violence and amazing triumph. It was a crime against humanity, personal freedom and the American spirit, but in the darkest hour, we answered back with our own humanity and resolve. It was and remains to be the kind of human spirit that has given us the strength to move forward. In our hopes for a small but gradual return to normalcy, we have redefined and rediscovered what it is to be an American. It is not found in solely asserting our military prowess abroad, nor is it revealed in simply displaying our stars and stripes.

We have to ask ourselves the questions we are all wondering - when will this heightened sense of patriotism dim? When will we begin to forget the fallen in our pursuit of the guilty? When will we realize that the greatest honor we can bring to our country is ensuring that our loved ones have not died in vain? When we will spread American pride for what it should be - a hallmark for humanity?

It has to begin today and in each of us. We must start with honoring the fallen - by striving to be the best people we can be and in appreciating those who are still with us and continue to touch our lives in countless ways. We have to adopt a new awareness, a renewed solidarity, a faith in humanity and a voice for peace. As much as memories may haunt us within, memories also remind us of our convictions and the work that must be done.

Love in the Aftermath

It used to be that they would look at one another with nothing but love in their hearts. They would lock gazes and smile as if they shared a little secret that no one else knew. It was a little secret of sorts. It was new love and it was their second chance to be together. Where timing and circumstance had once been wrong, this time together felt like destiny had intervened. Fate and a little act of cupid, they liked to believe. They felt lucky for their reunion and for every moment that they had to look forward to.

They embraced their new beginning. They discovered the depth of their love and the power of wanting one person so much. They traveled along in their bubble of love and bliss, untouched by the passing of time and the distractions of daily life. They felt everything good between them, and at the same time, they felt weightless. They drifted together, sharing conversations about their dreams and peering into each other’s souls. They loved wholeheartedly, with good intention, affection and compassion.

But, theirs was a love that wasn’t impenetrable. At times, it felt the weight of the earth and was grounded by pain. It experienced bouts of conflict and heartache. Theirs was a love that was fragile and with each new cut, the collective wound grew bigger and the suffering more intense. As time passed, their love continued to bruise and bleed inward, but they remained ever hopeful. They were buoyed by the potential of their love.

They wondered how they could heal, if their love could heal. How would they mend all that had been broken? The grace of love had dimmed and in its place, doubt had settled. They didn’t know how they got to this place and how they had strayed so far. They stumbled amidst this uncertainty, and waded in loneliness, sadness and pain. They reached for a token of inspiration and summoned the faith they carried deep within. They looked inward and outward for signs of home but it was tucked away in a far off place. Only their hearts remained, separated but seeking with good intention, affection and compassion, and wishing to be reunited with the splendors of love.

Deconstructed

You came to me in a dream one night. You sat with me through my pain and tears, and reassured me that you would stay. You told me this moment wouldn’t last forever and that time tells all. You told me things would be alright and that I would always be loved. You told me there could be no joy without sorrow. You told me to wait for dawn.

I couldn’t see your face. I didn’t know your name. You only revealed yourself through words and the compassion in your heart. But I wished to tell you things that lived in the smallest corners of my mind. I wanted to tell you about the things I remembered, saw and felt that made me happy and carefree. I wanted to tell you why I was here in the shadows and why I couldn’t leave.

You told me the universe doesn't stand still for anyone. It doesn't pause for wanderers, the faint of heart, or half dreamers. I wanted to tell you that you were inextricably tied to my future – you just didn’t know it yet.

"You're luggage."

It all started in January 2005 when L, S and I embarked on a sibling vacation to Barcelona. L and I had traveled together many times, but this was our first time traveling abroad with our younger brother. With fondness, I remember our tapas dinners, flowing sangria and S complaining about his “cankles” from walking all around the city. We survived a hotel room together and a small rivalry over who would take the lead on navigation. It was a spectacular trip for the sites we saw, the food we ate and the experience we shared.

In January 2008, we repeated our adventure together in Greece, where we tackled Athens, Santorini and my big little brother driving us around in a compact car. We made a great little team and we were all eager to walk and explore (and with no fear of “cankles”). After our big fat Greek adventure, we each continued on in our separate travels, with L and S making a small backpacking appearance in the UK and Belgium. Unbeknownst to L and I at the time, these trips had sparked in my brother a great appreciation for travel – and wanderlust.

Fast-forwarding three years to the present, we reunited again on different shores and under wildly different circumstances. S had eventually given in to the lure of backpacking and left NY for a year-long jaunt around the world, but then inadvertently landed a job in Sydney. As a result, for two weeks this month, we all found ourselves together again in Australia. We converged from different corners of the world as L made the marathon flight from NYC and I swooped down from Shanghai. This time, it wasn’t purely a vacation or a trip. It was quality time together and a long-overdue reunion. The running jokes and sibling quirks were mostly unchanged, but the togetherness prevailed above all.

For me, it wasn’t until my last afternoon in Sydney, walking with my brother around Darling Harbour, that I felt just how much I would miss my brother and sister. I realized how geographically scattered we were, and that a reunion like this one would not come easily or often. And yet, I felt so grateful for the trip, for the time together and for them. I hope another three years won’t pass before we are reunited, but I have a feeling we’ll find each other again in a far-away place with a map in hand and countless memories to smile upon.

(P.S. For those wondering, the quote is from the movie “Eraser.” Only the Arnold can deliver that line to a crocodile with a straight face.)