But there were tears…

“In bed that night I invented a special drain that would be underneath every pillow in New York, and would connect to the reservoir. Whenever people cried themselves to sleep, the tears would all go to the same place, and in the morning the weatherman could report if the water level of the Reservoir of Tears had gone up or down, and you could know if New York is in heavy boots.” – Jonathon Safran Foer, Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close  

Michael said something quite haunting to me that day we all went to the memorial. He said, “What if the water in this waterfall was actually the tears of the survivors.” First, I thought that was absurd, but then, realization slowly apporached me, as well as our little hero from Foer’s novel. The water in this waterfall could be the tears of everyone who was affected by that monstrosity that occured: it’s endless. Just like every evil act humanity has laid upon itself throughout the course of time, a scar remains that is worth mourning about.

In all honesty, the memorial seemed out of place… It is surrounded by extremely tall buildings and insane traffic. It’s so beautiful, so serene, so relaxing. It shouldn’t be there. But I think that’s the brilliance of it.

It shouldn’t be there. That day should have never happened. The memorial is so unusual. It shouldn’t exist. But, it does. It’s beautiful. Out of disaster, a spark of beauty can grow.  The people who were in the memorial the time we were there were walking around, relaxing, thinking, wondering… dreaming. Sooner or later, the memorial will be finished and it will be fully public. Sooner or later, the scar of the demolished buildings and an empty worksite will be complete with the standing of the freedom towers and the promenade. Sooner or later, the beauty will be truly visible. We will never forget. But, the memorial helps us remember that out of such a disaster, beauty can still be seen. No matter what.