10 years is a long time.
And yet, it’s nothing.
The family of Michele Coyle-Eulau still miss her desperately.
The friends of Brett Bailey, Chris Dunne and Johanna Sigmund still gather many times a year to honor them and raise money in their memory.
Those who were there at Ground Zero still remember with complete clarity what it was like to be there.
I used to think that there would come a time when I would look up in the sky, see an airplane and not think of 9-11. But in ten years, that day has never really come.
I hear the roar of an engine. It’s just an airplane, I think. There are thousands in the sky every day. But in some ways, it is everything. Because it catapults me back. Watching the second plane practically on video loop. The towers. The loss. The incomprehensible loss.
Whether we wanted it to or not, this tragedy has defined a decade and perhaps the official end to my generation’s youth.
I was thinking about what I wanted to write on September 11th when I learned of another tragedy.
A wonderful, delightful mom blogger, Anna See, lost her 12-year-old son in the recent floods. Her 12-year-old son. I can’t quite wrap my head around it. It’s unbearable.
Loss is loss.
Whether it happened on September 11th or some other day that should have been average with errands and deadlines and a messy kitchen but instead turned into something completely awful.
Michele Coyle-Eulau, a mother of three, is desperately missed.
Brett Bailey, Chris Dunne and Johanna Sigmund, three friends who all had so much ahead of them, are desperately missed.
Anna See’s 12-year-old son, who had just started the 7th grade, is desperately missed.
My friend Lanie’s two baby sons, Jake and Sawyer, who died so young, are desperately missed.
I ask you on September 11th to remember those we have lost on this day and every other day. Remember them. Love them. Honor them.
I do it every time I hear a plane roar overhead.