Today I logged into my FaceBook to find all of these comment threads about remembering 9/11, asking what we were doing that day, sharing our thoughts, fears, and memories of that day.
I posted a “Good Morning” on my mother’s wall, and in her comment back she said, “Thinking a lot about 10 years ago and thinking about all those families who lost loved ones that day. Somehow I can’t help but thinking that all the reminders on Facebook are so sad… NONE OF US should need to be reminded.”
She is right you know, none of us should have to be reminded. But I think it goes deeper than that. I think it goes past the reminders, and the memories, and the sharing. I think it’s the face that we are all still scared, still grieving, still worried that something is going to happen again.
Sharing our memories, sharing what we were doing is, maybe, our way of coming together to share in the grief.
“Come and tell me what you were doing, so I can comfort you. Then let me tell you and you can do the same.”
You know, this isn’t a normal tragedy. This isn’t about a public transit bus that swerved off the road and killed 6 of the passengers; this isn’t about a train that derailed, and it’s not about a gas leak that caused an explosion in a home, or hotel.
This is a tragedy that truly did shake not only our nation, but the world even.
Yes, the US was effected the most – we were the ones attacked, we were the ones who’s ground was shook and torn into rubble. Our government buildings were on high alert, our Pentagon was attacked, we had people who died who had no idea that there was even this attack going on.
While your sharing your stories about your English class, or your drive home from the grocery store, or sitting watching a soap opera when the news Broke in, take a minute to think about those who never had a chance to hear the news – they were the news. Think about those who will never be able to share their story, because they were the story. Think about those who were 9/11. Think about those who were the news. Think about those who have not had the chance to voice their story because they were the ones who were killed in the terror attacks.
While we sit here and post, think of those family members who have to avoid FaceBook, Twitter, and other social networking sites, because of the reminders they get about the son, daughter, husband, wife, child, grandchild, or grandparent, loved one, or friend they lost. Before you offer up your story about what you were doing, think about those who were actually there.
Remember those faces covered in dust and debris, the faces on the news that walked away, the unrecognizable faces, the people who walked away not knowing what the hell had just happened; the people watching the news, trying to decipher those faces, trying to recognize one of them as their own family – trying to sift through the news channels looking for their loved ones; looking through the channels for them as if they were looking through a laundry basket for a lost sock.
Think about those police officers, firemen, and EMS who arrived at the towers to help find and save the lives of those who were buried in the rubble. There were life’s lost within their squads too.
You see, to us, sharing our memories of what happened in our class room, home, car, and job are reminders to us of what happened to them. But when we share, they are reminders to those victims who survived, of what happened to them. It is a reminder that we survived and their loved ones didn’t.
So, instead of posting about your personal reminders from the other side of the country, post a prayer for those families effected. Sit down and pray, to whatever god or Gods you serve, and pray that these families can find a healing place, that they can find a place with their God that is comforting, and loving.
Pray or send out some positive energy for those who want to break down today, for those who cannot hold the person they lost today.
Today shouldn’t be about those of us who survived. Make it about those who were lost.
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