September 11, 2014

I Don't Want To Remember


Today is September 11th. As few as 15 years ago, that didn't mean a lot to people unless they were born on that date, were married on that date, had a child or lost a loved one on that date. Now however the numbers 9 and 11 in sequence take on a meaning all their own.

EVERYONE has a "where were you and what where you doing when..." story, and it doesn't matter how mundane the answer to the question is, it becomes bathed in the kind of "frozen moment" significance that will make it completely unforgettable.

It seems that each year since, much emphasis is put on "remembering" the events that happened on that horrific day, but I for one, don't want to remember.

I don't want to remember how I was awakened by a phone call telling me to turn on the news. I don't want to remember the sleepy confusion of seeing the second plane hit. I don't want to remember the instant loss of innocence that had let me believe all my life that somehow living in America meant being isolated from horrible things of that magnitude.

I don't want to remember my first thought. "I have to make soup!" I knew that when my children came home from school that I needed them to return to something "normal." Eating a home cooked meal said normal to me somehow that day.

I don't want to remember the eerie silence in the sky as planes were grounded and I don't want to recall the horrifying sound of them flying overhead again. I don't want to remember not being able to go ANYWHERE without hearing people rehearsing the latest death tolls, or news stations playing their round the clock coverage of the havoc.

Maybe I'm alone in this, but I don't want to remember how many people's lives were shattered in a few hours by the actions of so few. Or how some people will never live the lives that would have or could have lived without this event marking the end and the new beginning.

I DON'T WANT TO REMEMBER - and sadly, just like the rest of you, I just can't seem to forget.


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