7-7-7

It occurred to me as I lay in bed thinking that I am in the middle of a string of seven year anniversaries. It was seven years ago today that the United States was attacked by terrorists. Tomorrow it will be seven years since I was diagnosed with HPV. On Sunday it will be my seventh birthday since those personally devastating occurrences - I will be 31. I celebrated my 24th birthday in 2001. Or rather, I went through the birthday celebrating motions.

I woke up this morning feeling something across between stress and the beginnings of a cold. It wasn't until I was driving to work and listening to the 9/11 tribute on the radio that I really began to remember. I have felt stress all week due to work and a little too much alone time. But this morning, when I heard the radio tribute I really began to remember the feelings of hopelessness that I felt for so many months after those days. It was something akin to post traumatic stress disorder. I live in Indiana, not New York. I cannot pretend to have the same feelings of despair as some of the individuals of that city, and certainly not as prolonged, but I do remember despair. I still feel it. It is always lurking there in some way waiting for the weakest moment to show itself.

I'll fight it. Sometimes it is minute by minute. At other times it is month to month. I was talking with a co-worker this morning who said he didn't discover his mortality until he was 41. I discovered it at 24. I'm no longer HPV symptomatic and haven't been for 6 years, but I know that I am mortal. I will fight it with every hot air balloon ride, plane trip, cross country hike, and passionate pursuit of pleasure and happiness that I can imagine.

I'm reminded of a speech on C-SPAN months after the attacks. Author Carmen Agra Deedy was speaking in Washington D.C. at the opening of the National Book Festival and she weaved a tale of loss and despair that was so riveting and spellbinding that I could not help but find comfort in it. She reminded me that every experience good or bad has a purpose and a meaning.

In the seven years since those days I have earned two college degrees, secured a professional job, lived on my own, and discovered the joys of living and depending on someone whom I love very much. In this seventh year since 2001 I think I am the luckiest woman in the world. I've still got my moments of despair, but I still have plenty of fight in me too. I may be mortal, but I'm alive.