Over the weekend, I read a lot of people's thoughts on this the 10th anniversary of the 9/11 attacks. Facebook was flooded with remarks like "We Will Never Forget." One friend commented how this saying was more of a campaign for revenge than a way to honor the memory of those lost. Another friend commented how she didn't like all of the "I remember where I was on this day" posts. Her point being that it wasn't about "us" and what we were doing, but about the memory of those who were injured, killed and left without a loved one. And others were posting articles about the strength of America, pride in our heroes, our resolve to stand above terror. I think we can all agree the date September 11th will mean something different to each of us.
I watched The History Channel's "tribute" coverage throughout the last couple of days. On Saturday night they revisited the timeline of events through messages left by the victims. Recordings left on answering machines, recorded 911 emergency calls and recorded fire fighter radio transmissions all told a story laden with fear, disbelief, panic, grief and heroism. My heart sank as I listened to the victims messages to their families. "Please know how much I love you." "Tell Mom I love her." "Watch over my daughters." My eyes blurred with tears as I watched people waving white flags from broken windows, no doubt contemplating the fall or worse yet, the jump. My stomach knotted as I listened to interviews of then pregnant survivors.
Listening to those voices, I knew what I was charged to remember. I will remember to show my children love every day. I will remember to fill their ears with compassionate words so they know to use them when the time comes. I will remember to teach them how to really say your sorry, but more importantly when to say it. I will remember to teach them how to forgive and to rebuild faith after it has been lost. Most importantly, I will remember to pour out love on those around me because love and loss are the ties that bind us all.
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