The Day After

In the horror of the moment, I heard phantom voices in my head saying they remembered exactly where they were when another national tragedy happened. Where were you when Kennedy was shot? Most people who were sentient at the time do recall where they were when they heard the news.

September 11, 2001 was much like that for me. I will never forget where I was and what I was doing. The feeling of abject horror and disbelief that this could be happening.

Even now, sitting here writing about it, it has the power to reduce me to tears. Which may be why I chose not to write about it yesterday.

The pain of those images, the loss of friends and colleagues, the change in the status of our personal freedoms... these are things I can never forget. True, I go through my daily life with my head down and plowing ahead. Still, when it's time to stop and take a moment and to pay our respects to those we lost, I willingly pause, reflect and give thanks.

Yesterday we made the effort to find a broadcast of memorial services. There were none to speak of. We felt it was important to talk about it with our son, share our experiences of the day and make ourselves available to any questions he might have. His Dad found a ceremony of the reading of the names on streaming video. We watched a little.

Since that day, I have not returned to where the Towers once stood. Perhaps someday I will. But not today.