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9-11-02 // 9.12 am do you remember walking out the day it rained forever NP: All About Eve - "Touched By Jesus" As far as I'm concerned, this isn't a day for chest beating or flag waving. I mean that in the figurative sense, mind you, I'm not saying people shouldn't fly flags if they want to. But I get turned off by over-patriotic "we're better than everyone else 'cause we're the USA" type stuff, which tends to get trotted out at times like this. I prefer to focus on the people. Anyway, we had a memorial service at my office a while ago...they retraced the paths of the planes and marked out the time when each one crashed. They lit a candle for each one...the whole thing was actually more tasteful than I figured it would be, what with this being the office of a government contractor and all. I nearly cried on my drive in to work. At one point, the radio went silent for a minute, as a moment of reflection. I had to fight back the tears...not because of what people were saying, or because of patriotic music or anything like that. I felt like crying because for the first time in a long time, I remembered -- actually thought deep and hard about -- the way I felt a year ago today, about the sorrow and the fear and the tragedy of so many wasted lives. I remembered thinking about my uncle, wondering if he was in the Pentagon that day or not, and having to wait until late afternoon to hear from my aunt who said that he'd just returned from there a few days ago, that he was home and safe. I remembered having to go to work that afternoon, that I had to drive my van and make the deliveries on my regular shift. I remembered moving about in a haze, doing my job but paying the most attention to the news reports on the AM radio. I remembered making dinner and eating, not because I was that hungry, but because it was a normal part of my routine. I remember sitting with my roommate and watching hours of endless news coverage. I remembered not being able to sleep that night, just laying in my bed shivering, too shaken to really know what to do. I actually wondered how long it would be till I would be able to sleep properly again. I remember being totally frightened, not knowing in the least what would happen when I woke up the next day. I remembered all of that and I hurt. I didn't want to remember it, but I had to, you know? My instinct was to be selfish and be detached, to not let any of the memorial stuff affect me. But then I thought about nearly 3,000 people who died, who aren't around anymore to go to work, to go home to their families, and I decided to remember, to let everything affect me. Maybe this entire entry is pretentious and overblown, but whatever, I don't care in the least. Tonight I'm going to avoid the traumatic, stars & stripes, gory footage-fest that I'm sure most television is going to be. I'm going to come home, wrap my arms around Erin, and not let go.
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