I can’t believe it has been 12 years since the day that we all call 9/11 happened. I remember being woken up by my boyfriend at the time, and being slightly upset with him. I was trying to sleep in because I had just flown in the night before from visiting Jackie in L.A. I had been there for three weeks and the flight was almost delayed to the next morning. That very morning when horrible things happened that have affected so many lives in ways we’re probably not even done realizing yet.
He told me to turn on the TV and despite my crankiness, I heard something in his voice that I had never heard to such an extent, so I did. And I swear I held my breath for what seemed like an eternity. I held my breath as if I was making a wish before I blow out a birthday cake. I was praying that it was all some sick joke or publicity stunt. It was ridiculous to wish for, but I just wanted something other than the truth to be that a plane had flown into a very important building in New York City.
All that happened though, was that things got worse. I don’t need to re-tell the story because we all know what happened. And we would continue to hear more stories from people. We all lost something that day. We all lost a little faith, a little hope, innocence… even when we thought we didn’t have any more of those things to lose. Then we started hearing stories about the heroes; the ones who stood in the face of evil and told it to fuck off. And even though their efforts were in vain, it helped to know that they didn’t go down without a fight.
I have lived a lucky life to only know of such horrible loss from a distance. My heart goes out to those who weren’t so lucky. I will always remember.
I don’t like to think about war and the destruction that is naturally associated with it but I’m forcing myself to do so today because so many people lived it for the sake of the future – for us. Our generation often waxes poetic about how generations of the past didn’t know any better but they sure had more faith that we do.
I can only begin to imagine what they went through and what I imagine is intense and so powerful… and I can’t help but think that it must have been that much more so.
We don’t know what it feels like to be constantly on edge fearing for your life and yet having to find some meaning in your existence; something to find joy in. While I think war is wasteful and absolutely fucking stupid, I am in awe of the people who went to war for what they believed in. Being around that much death, being the one to execute someone’s life changes a person.
I could have complaints about my life but it’s people like those who fought in war that drive me to force myself to suck. it. up. I’m only human and will let complaints slip out every now and then but I know how blessed of a life I have led and continue to lead. So today, I am going to mourn the people I’ll never get to meet because they died fighting for our freedom; the people who survived their friends and come back broken; the people who didn’t go to war but had to attempt to continue to live their lives while their most-beloved is out fighting for their lives (and are no doubt equally broken).
I wasn’t living in this part of the world when it all happened and I have been lucky enough that my life hasn’t been directly touched by any subsequent wars/battles but I am enjoying the benefits of their sacrifices and I’ll be damned if I take any of it for granted.
I may not agree with war, and I may not have been alive for any of the wars to understand what they went through. But I don’t think I need to be to give them my thoughts on Remembrance Day. I could lie and say that part of the reason I chose the color scheme for my birthday party was for Remembrance Day, but I won’t – though it did cross my mind when I was buying my red Gerbera Daisies.
Remembrance Day is one of those days that always fills me with such great appreication for the great men and women who sacrificed their lives for everybody else. Even the ones who survived and came back were never the same. I’m not sure if they knew what they were getting into… or whether, if they did would they have gone anyway? But it doesn’t matter, the point is they went and we need to honour them by remembering.
I’ll admit I don’t know the name of a single person who I should be remembering, but I believe that a person’s soul doesn’t have a name but it certainly has character and there’s a collective characteristic that all those involved share; I think that their souls’ are what is important to remember. So I remember their efforts, their sacrifices and their hearts.
Of course, we also have to remember those who are in Afghanistan; I hope they stay safe – even though I know that’s extremely difficult over there.
Do you remember?