Twenty-two years


Tragic events which leave deep emotional scars on those left behind tend to soften as time passes.  But not always.  Not even after these twenty-two years when, on that beautiful September morning, each of our lives were severely impacted by the willful, destructive ideology of radical Islamic extremists.

As I sat and watched the yearly ceremony in New York City, it seemed to hit harder than in previous years.  It was almost as if it had just taken place for the first time.  The incredible pain of watching innocent lives disappearing as two majestic icons collapsed into clouds of smoke and twisted metal was beyond overwhelming. 

My personal reaction might have been due to spending time at both the Freedom Tower and 9/11 Museum with my family.  The footprint of the North Tower had us walking on what I deemed sacred ground; there was a sense that many who had perished were watching over each visitor, perhaps looking for a familiar loved one, waiting to send some spiritual comfort to those left behind.

Today, I again watched, and listened, as names were read by family members.  Their tears gently fell as they spoke about the losses they suffered, each vowing to never forget.  Brave families, with such unimaginable voids in their lives, who took time to share sweet stories and express their love as they looked to the heavens.

Twenty-two years have passed; many more will follow.  Ceremonies and observances will continue.   One day, the September 11th tragedy will become a chapter in history for generations that follow.  That is, until those generations walk on hallowed ground and learn to never forget.


Endless sleep…

Writing, anything, often sends me in different directions, especially when my focus is distracted.  In some ways, that tells me that I wasn’t all that invested in the subject matter in front of me at that moment.  Moment…became the operative word surrounding a tragedy and the loss of adventurers, likely at 7:08 this morning, somewhere near Newfoundland.

Part of me understands the need to find out more about historical events, that’s why there are museums, libraries and other sites in place for our explorations.  My family and I stood on hallowed ground at the 9/11 Memorial site here in New York, finding ourselves wrapped in the eerie moments of silence, still unable to move past the horrors of that heartbreaking day. How much different was our experience from this Titan voyage? We witnessed the smoke from the collapse of the World Trade Center, we had friends and family caught in the terror of that day, we joined millions of others in prayers and tears.

What I disagree with is this business-oriented, human invasion, of the resting place of over 1500 souls via submersible tours, available to those willing to pay a hefty price for their voyeurism. So much has already been recorded and salvaged from the Titanic and the ability to peer through photographs and documents is readily available.  The need to trespass into this particular graveyard, to me, is a lack of respect for those who perished in the freezing waters of the Atlantic.

Sadly, five people have now become another page in Titanic’s history.  I hope they offered a prayer for all who perished in 1912…just as we do now, for them, at this moment, as they drift off in their endless sleep.

From Mama Kat’s Writer’s Workshop…Write about a news story that has currently captured your attention.


Slow ride…

Seasons pass more quickly than they used to, it seems.  Perhaps these fleeting days are just the mortality clock, with its ominous ticking, in the background of our lives.

Once, it felt like winter would never release its icy grip as we waited for spring to awaken, followed by summer’s warm embrace.  Autumn would wrap our world in magical colors and we so looked forward to the first snow of the year.  We knew that our ride on the carousel of seasons would continue.  What we didn’t realize was how our perspectives would change as the years suddenly moved faster and we wished that ride went slower.

As we age, we experience time differently having seen and done so many things as time has passed; emotions get in the way of an accurate perception of time. Whatever the case might be, as we get older, our focus remains on the rapid changes surrounding us at a time when we just want life to be in less of a hurry.

Ferris Bueller reminded us when he said “life moves pretty fast. If you don’t stop and look around every once in a while, you could miss it.”

From Mama Kat’s Writer’s Workshop…Write a blog post in exactly 9 lines.