September 11th

I've written this post and revised it a dozen times in my head. Calling it a tribute doesn't make sense to me. Saying I remember what happened on September 11th, 2001 doesn't do justice to those who lost their lives or shed light to the fact that rarely a day goes by when I don't think about what happened. It's a matter of being (un)able to find the right words when seemingly none will do.

Like many others I remember exactly what I was doing when I learned about an airliner slamming the first tower. I remember the voice of a normally jovial radio announcer cracking as he choked back tears trying to explain what had happened. I remember wondering if my brother and his family had gone into the city that day and praying they hadn't. I remember praying for the safety of best friend who was in New York for business. I remember praying for those trapped in the buildings, the first responders and their families. I remember being thankful for the brave souls on flight 93, yet mourning the loss of their lives. I like many others can't help but remember September 11th, 2001.

I remember how I'd felt safe flying across the country on a regular basis, never worrying about a plane being hijacked, much less being used as a weapon. I remember being able to kiss my wife good bye before I left on a flight knowing that I'd be flying home safely in a couple of days. I remember not being concerned men of Middle Eastern decent were about to board the same flight I was on.

I remember lying to my wife of only three months that night, telling her that everything would be okay. I remember knowing that the world had forever been changed just a few hours earlier.

I remember praying I would wake up in the morning and it had all been a dream.

I remember praying for the first time that someone, whoever they were, would die a slow painful death.

I remember 2,996 lives ended prematurely on bright a September day because the lives of 19 terrorists hadn't been ended prematurely.

I remember hearing that time heals all wounds. I think they're wrong. I'm more enraged today than I was five years ago. I'm more upset today than I was five years ago. I'm assuming I've emotionally peaked, but can't say for certain. I do know for certain that I'll go to my grave loathing the bastards who attacked our America on September 11th, 2001.