Ten years

The past few days, I have been thinking of the anniversary. 9-11.

It is surreal to me that my children, that the children I teach at church, that most children, either were not here before that day, or will never remember America before that day.

I lived in Hattiesburg. My room-mate frantically woke me that morning, crying, telling me to watch because she couldn't tell. So we did, all day. I moved from my couch to another friend's couch and from there, we stayed glued to the television all day. I think we left the apartment once, to wait in a 2 hour line for gas because that is what people do in the wake of national tragedy, fill their tanks with gas. What else is there to do?

I can not tell you specific ways in which my life has changed as a result of 9-11. I guess, in reality, not in many ways. I still have a roof over my head, a car to drive, family to love, a life to live. I am so blessed in comparison to so many that lost real, tangible things that day, that sacrificed so much that day. But my life DID change on September 11, 2001. I can not put my finger on it, can not put it to exact words. But there is a bit of sadness that lingers from that day, attached to the person I am today. There was no transformation from child to adult, no loss of innocence that would make the day more poetic. Yet, I do think that something stirred up in me, that the stirring mixed up my world, caused me to see things differently. Within 9 months of 9-11, I got engaged and married, moved and formed this life I live and love now. Maybe the cliche is right, maybe I did lose some of that innocence, nievity. Maybe I did grow up, gain perspective. I don't know. I only know for certain that the day became a part of me.

Ten years. I haven't wanted to recognize it because for some reason, it feels a betrayal to have gone on with life for a whole decade. It is no longer something that just happened only moments, days, months, even a few years ago. Does that even make sense? It just doesn't feel right to have it a part of our history when it is still so raw. I guess that is it. Why do we need to remember it when it's still right there beside us? I think, for those of us old enough to remember, it will always feel that way.