When I started writing this post, I could have sworn the last time I wrote about September 11th was in 2016 for the 15th anniversary. Turns out, my only post about it so far on this blog was in 2019, for the 18th anniversary.
What I wrote in 2019 captures a lot of what I was preparing to write today, so I’ll let you read those words on that post, if you choose. A warning: I do have several images in that post that are disturbing from 2001. Proceed with caution.
I will say today that I remember, 20 years ago, that I felt true fear and anxiety. A few days ago, I thought those feelings on that brilliant Tuesday were the first time I felt them, at 13 years old. Now, I’m fairly certain it was the second time that I felt fear, anxiety, and despair. The first time was on April 20, 1999, the day of the Columbine High School massacre.
I think of the 2,977 innocent lives that were lost on the four planes, the World Trade Center, and the Pentagon. I think of the firefighters and other first responders. All of them were heroes and heroines. I think of the unborn children. I think of the children who lost their parents or their other family members. The entire nation – The entire word – was changed on September 11, 2001.
I was watching the sun rise this morning as I drove to get breakfast for Al and I this morning. I stopped the podcast I was listening to mid-sentence, and I found myself praying as I drove back home. I was expressing gratitude for still being on this Earth, watching another sunrise.
As I finish this post today, in the middle of the afternoon, the sun is shining, it’s 78 degrees and so pleasant. Fall is on the way. And I think of all the families – Families of the victims, families of the rescuers, families who were directly affected by the debris and destruction in New York, Arlington, and Shanksville. I’ve consumed more news media this week than normal, because so many stations and channels have been covering the 20th anniversary. At the end of this post, I’ll share a few links of ones that captured my heart. All of them made me cry.
Today has been about reflection, gratitude, and prayer. I’m definitely a different person at 33 years old than I was at 13. And I’m grateful to be writing about it, hopefully as respectfully as I can be.
God Bless America. God bless us all.
20th Anniversary Coverage
They Lost Loves Ones In 9/11. We Invited Them To Leave A Voicemail In Their Memory | NPR
America After 9/11 | FRONTLINE
The children of 9/11 sit down 20 years later | Good Morning America
Until the next headline, Laura Beth 🙂
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