A Numbers Game

I have already heard it ad nauseum. This weekend, of course, is the anniversary of the terror attacks of September 11th.  The Tenth Anniversary.  I understand the media, especially, is making a big deal out of this.  They just don't have many original ideas.  But this year's anniversary seems to indicate that last year's, or the year before didn't mean as much.

I don't think that is right.

Simply because this year's anniversary is a nice round number, doesn't mean that the years since didn't matter.  If anything, this year's number only amplifies the years since that terrible day.

Maybe I'm just uncomfortable with all the media hype for this weekend, because it brings up some tender feelings I have still about that horrible day.  One most days I can suppress the feelings, while still remembering what happened.  But when the media keep pounding it over my head, there is no where those tender, wounded feelings can hide.

I can't help but recall the shock and devastation I felt when I was told by my neighbor to "come in and see this" just as The Girl was to catch her carpool to school.  I can't forget the feelings of helplessness I felt seeing the towers crumble, knowing the hundreds that were still inside never to be found.  I can't shake the memory of the cell phone calls from those aboard Flight 93 telling their families they love them and knowing that was the last they would speak to them.  And I can't forget the feeling of loss of innocence that day for my children and families everywhere.

Just because it has been ten years, I haven't forgotten those things. But it still hurts to remember.