Like Giants

I wrote this on the first anniversary of 9/11 - and every word of it remains true:

In those days, we finally chose to walk like giants & hold the world in arms grown strong with love & there may be many things we forget in day to come, but this will not be one of them.

In memory of the events of September 11, 2001 & the days that followed. For those lost & for those left behind & for the countless people throughout the world who stepped forward in body, mind & spirit & chose to walk like giants.

 ~Brian Andreas
"Awakening"

I bought this poster just weeks after the events of September 11, 2001. I've been a longtime fan of Brian Andreas and as usual, his words struck a chord with me. All proceeds from the poster went to the American Red Cross and while it seems so very little in the broad spectrum of things, it felt good to give a little.

I have no idea what it was like that day. What it has been like since. I've never even been to New York (or Washington, DC or Pennsylvania for that matter). As it is, my life was left unscathed by the tragedies of that morning, and yet I still feel as though it has been forever changed.

In the days that followed the horror of 9/11, it was all I could think about, all I talked about, all I thought about. I prayed to God for weeks afterward (and all through the anthrax scare that followed) to please not let the world end now. Please keep us safe. Please help us. I was terrified and horrified, sad and angry. Yet, I still have no idea--I am sure.

In the months that followed the agony faded. I didn't think about it every day. Some weeks I may not even think about it at all, though those were rare. My life resumed its normal pace. I laughed and danced and drank and feasted. Life, as I knew it, has gone back to quasi-normal. However, I still can't resist an article in the news about it. I'm stil inexplicably drawn to the specials on TV about it. I can't read enough I can't see too many documentaries. I'm still trying to put it together though I'm not sure what it is that's broken. I want to understand. I want to not forget that this wasn't just an action movie--343 firefighters died at the WTC. For real. 23 policemen lost their lives. Thousands of others--civilians just living their ordinary lives on an ordinary day--died. This wasn't a movie set, it was real life. Real people. Real heartbreak.

Nobody talks about this stuff anymore. When I mention it, I'm told that it's a "ready-made downer" and that our government has exploited it so much that it's already lost meaning. Is this how I'm supposed to feel about it? Am I supposed to not want to think about it or study it because it's depressing and it's gotten too much attention already? Is this really where all this has led to? When I want to watch documentaries on 9/11 my roommate gives me evil looks and moves to hibernate in his bedroom muttering "tragic, yes. Do I want to watch a tv show about it...no." in a tone that indicates he's got much better things to do than relive the events that left him unscathed a year ago as well. Does this mean we should leave the pain to those affected by it and go on with our lives like it never happened? Choose Dreamcast games over PBS documentaries because "we're tired of being sad about this?" Is the most valuable lesson that we have learned in the last year that--if it didn't affect you directly you should just pretend like it never happened at all?

I want to think not. So I keep reading, keep watching the documentaries, keep trying to soak up as much information as I can about it. I want to read about the 36 year old widow with 6 children who is choosing, this September 11, to celebrate her husband's birthday in heaven rather than mourn the tragic fate that befell him one year ago today. I want to cry for the firefighters widow who bravely tells the nation that her husband spent his entire life preparing for that day, and of course for all the passengers on United Airlines Flight 93 who unwittingly, but unflinchingly, became heroes that day. I want to cry about it because I'm afraid of the numbness that lies on the other side of this sorrow. I want to cry about it because it deserves to be cried about. I want to cry about it because I was very very lucky that day to make it through so completely unscathed while others across the country--and across the world--lost a co-worker, a f riend, a brother, a sister, a daughter, a son, a mother, a father. I want to cry because on top of everything, the events of 9/11 stripped me of an innocence that I'd never even been aware that I had.

I also want to cry because there was such beauty in the face of such horror. I want to cry because for the first time in my life I witnessed people rise to the occasion and shower those around them, and those far from them, with kindess. I watched bloodbanks overflow and read tales of people who packed up and headed across the country without a second thought--to lend their hands in New York. I want to cry because Wal Mart ran out of flags. I want to cry because we have heroes now. Real ones. I don't want to forget and I don't want to pretend like it never happened. I don't want to lose this empathy and compassion. I don't want to forget the greatness that I saw in people in the days after--the way they walked like giants and wrapped love-strong arms around the world.

Perhaps most of all, I don't want to forget the events of September 11, 2001 because it's the most poignant illustration of how important it is to love the ones you love. Let them know. Let it show. Live your life. Be happy.

God Bless.