When I was a baby, doctors said I would never walk. My parents didn’t listen and they found a surgeon who was willing to help us and I did develop the ability to walk. I looked like a drunken, pregnant chimpanzee, but I walked.
Throughout my life, I think I’ve taken the word “never” as an indication that I should just try harder to succeed at whatever the person was telling me I could never do.
My own (lack of) response
In the last 10 years, I’ve struggled with my personal response to 9/11 because I never had that instant feeling or horror, of grief. It took several years for that to sit in, I think. I was getting ready for work that day 10 years ago and got a call from my mom, asking if I was watching “this.” I turned to the TV and saw burning buildings and literally thought to myself, “wow, some other country has buildings that look just like the Twin Towers, how weird!” I just assumed that a terrorist attack with giant burning buildings would be in some other country, some other place. It never occurred to me that I was witnessing something live from New York City.
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