September 11, 2001
Every American has their own memory of September 11, 2001. We all know where we were, and what we were doing. And what I was doing does not mean crap, because I was not there; I was on the West Coast, just dragging my butt out of my warm, comfy bed. And I saw it all............
I belong to two discussion groups here at Daily Strength. "Bereavement" & Widows & Widowers". While I am currently grieving a recent, very personal loss, I continue to grieve, nine years later for the nearly 3000 Americans who lost their lives for no other reason than for being Americans. In four horrific acts of hatred and fanatical ideology, countless thousands of widows, widowers, motherless children, fatherless children, and friendless friends were created. The victims did not stand a chance, and they did not deserve their fate. 3000 Americans got up, got ready to go, kissed their spouses and kids good bye, and they went off to work, never to come home to their families again.
And here I sit. Nine years later. And my grief for them is as strong and unhealed as it was on September 12, 2001. I have an image from that day that is burned forever into my brain, never to leave the forefront of my mind. It is the image of a man. An American man. And the photo captured his image as he was free falling to his death from the burning tower that would have consumed him had he not jumped. And I sit here. And I cannot for the life of me imagine what could have been going through his mind as he fell. He certainly had a long time to consider his fate as his fall was so agonizingly long. Did he think of his wife? Of her tender embrace and the passion of their lovemaking? Or how about his little daughter who was just learning how to ride her bicycle? Or maybe his son? The son that he was teaching how to play short stop for his little league baseball team? Was he afraid? How could he not be? Did he pray? Did God take him into His arms before he hit the ground, sparing him the pain of the awful impact of his body on the concrete below? The answers to these questions I'll, of course never know. Nor is it my right or my business to know. Death is such a private, such a personal thing. But his death was so public. And so tragic. And so unnecessary. And he was not alone. Many, many of my fellow Americans were forced to make that dreadful decision to jump or burn in the inferno that threatened to cremate them alive.
And I am angry. Very angry. But this is neither the time or the place to express my anger and the vengeance that I still seek in their memory. So I will save my vengeance for the Lord. He has reserved a special place in Hades for the vermin that perpetrated these acts, and who would wish us further harm.
I did not know the "falling man". I did not know Todd Beamer. I did not know any of the nearly 3000 souls who were murdered on September 11, 2001. But I loved each and every one of them. Why? Because I am an American. And they were Americans. And I was brought up to love my country and my fellow Americans who stand with me in the name of Freedom and Liberty. And I grieve for them. And I grieve for their families and those who knew them personally. And I grieve for us all, because America was attacked in the most cowardly way imaginable on September 11, 2001. And I do not believe that Americans will ever be able to complete the "5 stages of grief" that the so called experts advise us to work through. I know that I won't.
I usually conclude my postings with a song, poem, or music video. There are many tributes to September 11, 2001 available on You Tube. Somehow or another, I just don't feel like posting any of that now. But I will never forget.
Well, I changed my mind. How could we not include this tribute to America??
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TnQDW-NMaRs&feature=related
I belong to two discussion groups here at Daily Strength. "Bereavement" & Widows & Widowers". While I am currently grieving a recent, very personal loss, I continue to grieve, nine years later for the nearly 3000 Americans who lost their lives for no other reason than for being Americans. In four horrific acts of hatred and fanatical ideology, countless thousands of widows, widowers, motherless children, fatherless children, and friendless friends were created. The victims did not stand a chance, and they did not deserve their fate. 3000 Americans got up, got ready to go, kissed their spouses and kids good bye, and they went off to work, never to come home to their families again.
And here I sit. Nine years later. And my grief for them is as strong and unhealed as it was on September 12, 2001. I have an image from that day that is burned forever into my brain, never to leave the forefront of my mind. It is the image of a man. An American man. And the photo captured his image as he was free falling to his death from the burning tower that would have consumed him had he not jumped. And I sit here. And I cannot for the life of me imagine what could have been going through his mind as he fell. He certainly had a long time to consider his fate as his fall was so agonizingly long. Did he think of his wife? Of her tender embrace and the passion of their lovemaking? Or how about his little daughter who was just learning how to ride her bicycle? Or maybe his son? The son that he was teaching how to play short stop for his little league baseball team? Was he afraid? How could he not be? Did he pray? Did God take him into His arms before he hit the ground, sparing him the pain of the awful impact of his body on the concrete below? The answers to these questions I'll, of course never know. Nor is it my right or my business to know. Death is such a private, such a personal thing. But his death was so public. And so tragic. And so unnecessary. And he was not alone. Many, many of my fellow Americans were forced to make that dreadful decision to jump or burn in the inferno that threatened to cremate them alive.
And I am angry. Very angry. But this is neither the time or the place to express my anger and the vengeance that I still seek in their memory. So I will save my vengeance for the Lord. He has reserved a special place in Hades for the vermin that perpetrated these acts, and who would wish us further harm.
I did not know the "falling man". I did not know Todd Beamer. I did not know any of the nearly 3000 souls who were murdered on September 11, 2001. But I loved each and every one of them. Why? Because I am an American. And they were Americans. And I was brought up to love my country and my fellow Americans who stand with me in the name of Freedom and Liberty. And I grieve for them. And I grieve for their families and those who knew them personally. And I grieve for us all, because America was attacked in the most cowardly way imaginable on September 11, 2001. And I do not believe that Americans will ever be able to complete the "5 stages of grief" that the so called experts advise us to work through. I know that I won't.
I usually conclude my postings with a song, poem, or music video. There are many tributes to September 11, 2001 available on You Tube. Somehow or another, I just don't feel like posting any of that now. But I will never forget.
Well, I changed my mind. How could we not include this tribute to America??
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TnQDW-NMaRs&feature=related
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