This is a repeat of THIS post, for 9/11/2009. I don’t have it in me to write a new one.
At 0846 AM Eastern Time on 09/11/2001 American Airlines Flight 11 struck the north side of Tower One of the World Trade Center Complex. This was the beginning of one of the worst days in American History.
Before this day “hijackings” were about money and power. Before this day you were much less likely to look at a Middle Eastern male the way you do now. Before this day the word “terrorist” wasn’t a political buzz word. Before this day there wasn’t a burning grave on the tip of Manhattan.
I’ve talked before about 9/11′s significance to my family. But now, just one year after that post, it is hitting me pretty hard. I’m sitting here with my son–Asher Harold. Harold for my grandfather–the man we put to rest on this day 8 years ago–and I keep blubbering like a baby. I miss him. I understand death. I understand that it is part of the process we call life. I also understand that his death left him in peace, whereas the end of his life was in pain and suffering.
I understand that.
But I’m still pissed. I’m pissed that he, and his wife, and my mother’s father didn’t get the chance to meet my son.
I’m pissed that so many people didn’t get to see their loved ones that night. I’m pissed that innocent men and women paid the price for someone’s ideology. I’m pissed that my brothers in service ran IN to a building to save people, only to never come out.
I keep struggling to find a way to just let it go. My emotions take a roller coaster thinking about it. I’m sad for the families who have had to suffer this great loss. I’m pissed at the men who thought this to be the only way to get their message out.
I don’t know what to say to any of them, but I think this is most appopriate for the victims families:
On behalf of the President of the United States and the people of a grateful nation, may I present this flag as a token of appreciation for the honorable and faithful service your loved one rendered this nation.
Sure, they weren’t “soldiers”. But they lost their lives because they lived on American Soil. They lost their lives on that principal alone.
My Grandfather was in the Army. Those words were said to my Grandmother with my Uncle by her side, his Navy Dress clean and crisp. Every time I hear them, or read them, or even think about them I get the same chill.
Today might not be about our troops… but we need to be better as a country and make EVERY day about our soldiers fighting on our behalf. They didn’t sign up to fight. They signed up out of pride. They signed up out of need. They signed up for a million reasons, but so very few people signed up because they want to go to war… So please, please take a minute to remember the fallen, and pray for those risking it all on daily basis.
Godspeed all. We miss you all.
We miss you grandpa.