What would the term be? "Happy Anniversary"? Hardly so. I honestly had zero intention of bringing up "
the day" ten years later. There was not a bone in my body that wanted to discuss any emotions brought forward from the past. I was happy with it being just that,
the past. It's hard to ignore, though, when it is all television, Internet news, facebook, and twitter have to offer is remembrances of that dreadful day. One would have to be a complete social misfit to avoid it, but that's exactly what I had intentionally done until this morning when I dare clicked on a local expat's link to her blog titled,
Ten Years On. My curiosity overcame my need to stay in my bubble as I knew the author wasn't an American. What could
she have possibly felt from a far off land to put the crumbling chaos of
my country in perspective? Surprisingly (
or actually comfortingly), feelings that weren't so far off from my own. She experienced the same need to cry, same need to be held, and that same need to feel for those that were beyond help. Reading her words, tears streaming, I was sucked back into that surreal day that I so wanted to leave behind. Hindsight, maybe it's not meant to be forgotten. Maybe I need a reminder of no matter what bubble I may live in,
someone out there is experiencing their own 9/11.
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What would the term be? "Happy Anniversary"? Hardly so. I honestly had zero intention of bringing up "the day" ten years later. There was not a bone in my body that wanted to discuss any emotions brought forward from the past. I was happy with it being just that, the past. It's hard to ignore, though, when it is all television, Internet news, facebook, and twitter have to offer is remembrances of that dreadful day. One would have to be a complete social misfit to avoid it, but that's exactly what I had intentionally done until this morning when I dare clicked on a local expat's link to her blog titled, Ten Years On. My curiosity overcame my need to stay in my bubble as I knew the author wasn't an American. What could she have possibly felt from a far off land to put the crumbling chaos of my country in perspective? Surprisingly (or actually comfortingly), feelings that weren't so far off from my own. She experienced the same need to cry, same need to be held, and that same need to feel for those that were beyond help. Reading her words, tears streaming, I was sucked back into that surreal day that I so wanted to leave behind. Hindsight, maybe it's not meant to be forgotten. Maybe I need a reminder of no matter what bubble I may live in, someone out there is experiencing their own 9/11.
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