Thursday, September 11, 2014

A Prayer Through The Glass

Through it all an eagle flies
Some people walk on some look paralyzed
I pray through the glass for heaven tonight.
-Phil Ayoub




As one who was alive and living in the United States thirteen years ago on this very date, I shall never forget where I was or what I was doing.  Neither shall you.  As if that matters. 

It does matter.  But it matters only as long as those of us who emerged from that day unscathed as I did - without having to endure the death of at least one family member and/or friend - never allow ourselves to forget those who were murdered that day and, perhaps even more importantly, the families of the murdered.  Lives were severed that morning.  And for some of the families affected, the damage wrought by the four plane loads of murderous cowards on that terrible September Tuesday morning has continued to reverberate almost one decade and a half later. 

I am not a man of faith.  If you are, I respect your beliefs though I cannot pretend to understand them.  I cannot understand how one who embraces the notion of some type of Divine Father explains what happened thirteen years ago on this very date.  As if that matters.  It most certainly does not. 




What matters - at least from my admittedly limited point of view - is this:   We cannot ever allow ourselves to forget September 11, 2001.  We cannot ever allow ourselves to take faux solace in speaking of that morning in terms of numbers, such as the total number of innocents murdered.  We must always remember that 2,996 INDIVIDUALS died that day and the families from whose grasp they were ripped suffered a loss of each and every one of them.  Speak of the collective if you must but respect the loss of the individual and the effect that each and every one of those losses had on the family that was forced to endure it...and still endures it every day. 

What the world at large observes, today, as an anniversary is for them yet one more day to endure their loss.  This year the point of intersection between the two happens to occur on a Thursday.  I would submit that it is the duty and obligation of those of us, such as me, who emerged from that terrible day without losing anyone who I love, to do all we can to honor the memories of those whose lives were lost that day and to honor the lives being lived, today, by the families and loved ones who soldiered on without them.  And who have kept on soldiering on today, and every day, for these past thirteen years.   



It was a late Indian summer morning almost fall...

-AK


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