Ten years ago, I was at the end of a bad marriage. The
morning of 9/11, my estranged husband called to tell me the world was ending
and that he wanted to be with me. My answer? “If the world is ending, I don’t
want to be with you.”
I was two months shy of my thirtieth birthday then. As I
watched the towers crumble, I remember thinking how little I had done with my
life. I had worked corporate job after corporate job. I had even worked in skyscrapers
for some of them, although not in New York ,
but Phoenix .
How many of those people – the ones who were at that moment dying at their
workplace – hated their jobs and dreamt of a different life?
I wish I could say I changed my life immediately – that I
quit my job and cut my energy-draining ex-husband from my life forever. Instead,
the changes were gradual, but permanent. I have never made another decision
without thinking this:
If the world ended today, would I be happy with where I was
and whom I was with?
*****
For more memories of that terrible day, visit Inknbeans.com.
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