Eighteen years ago, we watched a tower full of firefighters and the people they were sent to rescue collapse. Then another. I knew they would never leave those towers, and I knew I would never forget.
They didn’t leave, and I haven’t forgotten. And I never will.And while I’m remembering, I’ll take time to reflect on the weeks and months after the attacks, and the rebirth of humanity and togetherness I felt, and the kinship that took over our land, and how color and politics and different ideas mattered, but only as much as they needed to; just a little. The bigger picture mattered more, and somehow, some way I know we will get that bigger picture back, and this time we won’t have to mourn the loss of innocent lives while we reset our spiritual compass.
We are veering way of course, with the politics stirring up resentments and small problems taking precedence they do not deserve. When the day is done, and the dust has settled one thing remains the same as it did eighteen years ago. The only thing that truly matters is each other, and how we treat each other, and allow ourselves to be treated.
I will never forget the loss of 9-11-01, but I cannot live without the hope of September 12th.