Going home, part 3: sacred ground

9/11 seems both so long ago, yet only yesterday. I had the opportunity to visit the Flight 93 Memorial in Shanksville while in Western PA a few weeks ago.

I thought I was prepared for the sight, but I wasn't. It hit me like a punch in the stomach. The sky was very much like what it would've been that fateful day. The flags flying in the breeze and the stark cross against the barren ridge were poignant reminders of both terror and heroism.

After listening to a lecture by one of the volunteers, I perused the mementos left along the memorial wall. It was so moving to see tokens left behind by people from all over the country, and all over the world. I did not come prepared with an offering, but I felt very deeply that I wanted to leave something. So I gave the most meaningful item I had with me at the time. A shoelace from the running shoes I was wearing. As I bent down to unlace it and tie it upon the wall, tears started flowing. It seemed a little insignificant and small given the circumstances, yet it made me feel better.

I walked away feeling deep gratitude. May these heroes be remembered forever.

Going home, part 2: my sisters

While on a recent trip to Pennsylvania, it struck me that I've blogged a lot about my friends, but not so much about my family. Pictured above are my sisters, Dawn (left) and Debra (right).

Dawn is two years younger than me. She lives in New Hampshire with her husband Tom, my 8-year-old nephew Justin and my 4-year-old niece Kaelyn. Debra's the baby of the family-- she's 11 years younger than me and lives in Virginia with her husband Ryan and my baby nephew Henry.

We're as different as different can be. Dawn's very conservative, a reader of Danielle Steel novels (which I always make fun of, just to annoy her), an analytical person who weighs every decision with great seriousness; everything in her house matches. Debra's bubbly and fun-loving, into mountain biking and adventure sports, loves her wine, is a bit of a wild child.

I love them more than words can express. They make me laugh. They comfort me when I'm down. Thanks, sisters. It was really, really good to be all together again.

Going home, part 1: remember where you came from

Last week we made a trip to Western Pennsylvania. Although I spent my adolescence there, I hadn't visited in close to ten years. It was an emotional trip, since we were helping my mom pack up her belongings for a move to Virginia.

Living in an urban area, it's common to hear people talk negatively about rural communities. But I believe that you should pay homage to your roots. The places that you've lived shape you. Even when you are not there, you bear the imprint of them on your inner being and, as such, they should be cherished.

Before we got to my mom's house, we stopped to have dinner with our friends Vince and Becky in Johnstown, PA at the City View Bar & Grill at the Inclined Plane. The view of that humble city in the valley brought back such a rush of memories for me as I stared pensively out the window.

I've spent a lot of time in Johnstown. Both good times and bad. I played bantam hockey at the War Memorial for "Coach Barry." Recovered for weeks in the hospital with severe head trauma from an auto accident (I can still recall the nurse, Kathy, who was so nice to me-- and my doctor who called me his "little girl."). Kissed my first boyfriend at the top of this same Inclined Plane. It struck me that who we are is not an amalgam of our possessions or even our accomplishments. Our worth can be measured by the depth of relationships we've had, both past and present, and how we honor them.

So this place is not a rustic throwback to me. It's a wonderful piece of my soul. I think I've been away too long.

A silver lining

I've certainly had my share of rough times this year. But I'm not going to wallow. Wallowing at this point is counterproductive and destructive. I prefer to look forward with my eyes fixed firmly on the horizon. There are certain things in life that no one can take away from you. Among those things are the people who hold you deep in their heart. The people who assure you with both words and actions that you will in fact find the strength to get through anything that life tosses in your path. True, I will sometimes lose my focus on the positive and slip back into a state of momentary sadness. But I'm comforted by the fact that I have friends who will be there to catch me and set me on my feet again. I am so blessed.