It was a beautiful day, absolutely perfect…I watched the sun and clouds go by as I drove to work.  And I reflected on how amazingly beautiful the weather was today..so like the way it was five years ago. Another amazing beautiful day…

I am a New Yorker..through and through. New York is my city.

Lower Manhattan was my playground as a wild teen running amok in the clubs and bars. There is no other city for me..as a child it was just “the city”..and I took it for granted that all cities were like New York, but nothing really is.

Driving on the LIE into the Midtown tunnel, you would knew that your were almost there when the Twin Towers graced the skyline. My children will never see that sight.

For the twelve years before that I would go back “home” to LI from upstate, I would always crane my head as I crossed the George Washington Bridge to view the skyline..and that skyline is changed now. I still look, but instead of being taken in by the magnificence I am struck with the loss all over again.

Five years ago, my city changed.

I watched from afar, both relieved and guilty that I could not be with her during her time of need as I watched from the safety of CNN in my living room with my family. Honored and amazed that my NY could fall so low, yet rise so high in the same moment. I fell in love with Rudy. I cried for those lost. I sat mouth agape as I realized that the first tower fell…and the second…. and they were gone.

I remembered only months before, my best girlfriends and I gathered for the bachlorette party at “The Best Bar in the Whole Wide World” on top of the towers. How I admired the decor and architectural details that went into the feel of the club. How we danced, as our friend Johhny played real vinyl albums of Frank Sinatra and fabulous swing tunes.

That was the last time I was in NYC before the fall.

The next time I returned…I was scared.

Scared that the “pulse” of my city would be gone. Feared I would see the wounds. I got there alone. And walked around the streets of New York..and I spoke to her. I told her how sorry I was. How sorry I was that I was not there for her. I told her that she was even more beautiful for she let everyone see inside her heart on that day. I told her that she was going to be OK. I walked around, the signs of the missing and lost were still up, and I cried for everyone lost that day.

Going over the Brooklyn Bridge that night, something was missing in the way the lights fell. We had the taxi cab go past Ground Zero the next morning., and dispite the loud sounds of traffic and construction and the recovery process all around, there was a quiet hush when we got close to the spot.

Today, I will cry for my city.

I will watch the towers fall again and again on various news shows and specials. I will hear the first person horrors of those who survived and mourn with those who lost their loves.

I will allow myself to feel it even though it is a beautiful day.

And I will remember.