It's September 11th, 2019.
Subtract 19 years and that date would have been no less significant than that of any other that thumb printed itself on this 9th month. (Unless it's your birthday, of course.) I'll be honest it's something I've kind of numbed myself to, like any person likes to do with trauma. It happened, it's done, let's move on. But that's the thing with trauma, it doesn't just go away. I guess what gets me the most is that I didn't have anyone close to me directly affected by it. So why, on the evening of the 18th anniversary, can my mind do anything but escape what my 12 year old self saw playing over, and over, and over on that T.V. set?
After all,
It happened,
It's done,
Let's move on.
Everyone who had the capacity to remember that day has a story.
I remember mine,
Vividly.
I was in sixth grade. Sixth grade. At the school I was attending this meant junior high. The school day had just dawned and homeroom was in session. My happy, balloon-like spirited teacher had left the room for mere moments and returned, deflated. She took breathes so deep it was as if she was gasping for air at the surface of the emotions that were trying to drown her.
"At [whatever time it happened] this morning two planes hit the World Trade Center..."
My naively ignorant, middle school self was confused about why this was so upsetting (let alone didn't even know what the WTC was. Yes, I know, I know). Plane crashes, though devastating, weren't unusual and didn't normally cause so much upset.
It happened,
It's done,
Let's move on.
I came home. My parents were watching the news (as I'm sure millions of other families were) and there on the screen were the planes. There on the screen went the explosions. There on the screen went the towers. There on the screen. Were the people.
It became real.
I distinctly remember seeing a man jumping out of a window, in the skydiver's position. He almost looked as if he was suspended in mid air as he flew hundreds of feet to his eminent death.
But
It happened,
It's done,
Let's move on.
Flash forward to today.
If you frequent the social media world, by now you would have seen the remembrance video that the TSA so perfectly pieced together. Woven seemly in each frame are the voices of operators, victims, and so on layered upon videos and footage. As my pupils took in each image all I could think about was that man jumping out that window. I can't even begin to try to formulate the right wording to explain what these people are feeling and experiencing. Terror? Anxiety? Desperation? All are mere rain drops in an ocean of reality.
There are many that don't just find this day to be a distant memory.
For them
It happened
It's not done.
And they're trying, but they can't move on.
Remember not only what happened, but the people who were affected by it.
And pray, always pray.
