I close my eyes and I see that second plane... having already heard about the first and not expecting more...
I think of the type of warfare that went to the Pentagon that day to those who are used to taking war elsewhere...
And those people on the fourth flight. Where did they find the resolve? Did they feel Him with them on that plane?
A man on the ground in New York - trying to get people off the street before the Towers fall - not knowing that his sister and niece had been on one of the planes that were used as missiles...
The Muslim man working in the restaurant atop the Tower - killed by people using his religion as an excuse, with his wife two days away from birthing their second child, a son!
There is nothing I can add to this discussion. Mine is not a unique memory. I was safe, although I can recite for you some very good reasons why the city I lived in at the time would have made a great target.
The sadness does not really lessen, does it? I just try to rearrange it inside my heart to fit with everything else crowded in there...
Is this what it feels like every day for people who live where war is all around them? The people who grew up with the sound of gunfire as a personal soundtrack? How do they fit that in their heart?
We all have songs that remind us of those feelings... the mourning, the helplessness... this is just one of mine...
