Remembering 9-11
There are a lot of blog posts that are going up about the politics, the meaning, the sadness around 9-11. I’ll be honest with you…I can’t talk about it. I just can’t. So I’m not going to blog about any specifics…except one:
On September 11, 2001, I sat in the second row, in the second seat, in the last column of seats on the second floor in room 202 in Scranton Preparatory School. I was learning about American History when the principal made the announcement on the loudspeaker. At first, I didn’t understand what it meant…what? What was hit? What happened? As the day progressed, I learned more, I cried, and I mourned.
I always used to wonder…how do people with advanced dementia or Parkinson’s remember things like Pearl Harbor? Most of the time, the event occurred when they were just kids! Now I know…and I also know that I’ll never forget.
In Memory of 9-11-01. You are not forgotten…
I have talked about where I was so many times now, I cannot stomach saying it agian. I can add though to your thoughts. My grandmother went through the Russian famine and Hitlers invasion of Russia, became a war slave in Poland, ended up in a war camp in Germany. The older she gets the more vivid her pain. Its like it happened yesterday. Such a scar on all our souls will never heal. and honestly, it never should. We carry that scar to honor those who died then and continue to die now, in their memory.