It's my Dark Day. I didn't even realize it until DJ told me he put the flag out. I think my body and mind knew because it had already been a hard morning with Hazel, but somehow by the grace of God I put her in a flag shirt today.
It's September 11, 2015 - it is 14 years since the twin towers came down. It is 14 years since my perception shifted. It is 14 years since I have watched any images of falling towers. It is 14 years since I have seen fleeing people scared and devastated by such severe destruction and callous display of human life. It is 14 years since United We Stand became a statement of belief was proudly displayed. It is 14 years since I visited DC for the first time. It is 14 years since I had my bag checked before entering a museum for the very first time. It is 14 years since I made that questioning call to my dad seeking solace and answers I knew would assist my minds processing ability. It is 14 years since I wrote my only published paper. It is 14 years since I have read my story because the pain of remembering what happened 14 years ago is so excruciating that I am typing with my eyes closed in order to cope.
14 years ago I changed. It is hard to describe what changed. It is hard to explain why it still brings me to my knees. That day when I saw the plane hit the 2nd building, as I watched and heard the news of such sadness, as I was enveloped by such unimaginable tragedy... my soul was ripped. It is not a tear that can be totally repaired. The scar is evident and literally painful every year on this day. It has not healed. I am unsure if it ever will.
This does not mean that I do not trust God, or that I am afraid, or that I am depressed and easily swayed by worldly events. Horrible things happen every day. I realize that, but THIS EVENT was my war. It was my mass casualty. It is my sorrow. I remember EVERYTHING. Every detail every moment when my soul was tugged a little bit more. This mind of mine which sees it all though a lens.... was the camera of all the tragedies, the heroics, the uniting, and the dividing. My minds box of these events is closed 364 days of the year, but on this day. It opens up. I review the film. I see myself, my surroundings. I FEEL it all over and over. The 3 days of constant updates, reviews, stories, press conferences, telethons, pictures. They are all there and demand to be re examined. I don't know why. I'm not sure if everyone does the same thing. Yes we put out our flags. We post on social media. We see updates on the survivors, while honoring the fallen, but it's different for me. The personal examination of myself and my experience is something I cannot forget.
While there is much said about what happened after. What was done, why it was done, and what we did/how/why we did it after. This I know. For a brief time. The UNITED States were united by grief, grace, and glory. We were together in caring, causes, and one certainty, United We Stand. I think that is how I deal every year with this immense flood of emotion. I relive the horror and sadness. I remember the images. I recall the stories. This all completely drains me physically and mentally. Then I remember the Uniting. This is how it must end. Without the finale the pain would be too much. As I entered the DC Mall area 14 years ago for the first time and was awestruck with the sheer amount of flags adorning every surface. I can still see the United We Stand banner hung on the light posts. As I stood at the Pentagon and saw the raw determination of a few to save many, I was humbled. We are united. We DO NOT have to agree on everything to unite, but at that moment we did agree. Something horrific had happened and we were going to pick up the pieces, take care of whom we could, share was we offered, and try to remember that together we can do amazing things.
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