Ever since my childhood, I've heard older generations recall their memories of monumental events. Many people can clearly remember where they were and what they were doing when....J.F.K. was shot, or when Neil Armstrong grounded the flag into moon dirt, or when the Atomic Bomb mushroomed into the heavens.
Of the things that my generation will be recalling in our older age, I suppose the events of 9/11 will be at the top of the list. As this crossed my mind today, it occurred to me how complex our memories can sometimes be.
Just like everyone else, I will never forget watching the news for 24 hours straight as airplanes crashed into buildings and people propelled themselves from office windows. It was horrifying. But in the past few years, when September 11th rolls around, my memories are clouded with specifics that are far more personal. I remember who I was with in those scary hours...a person I wish I could forget...the hotel room television...how I felt every single day of that entire week...the striped shirt that I looked so good in. That event just so happened to be the start date of a very bad time in my life; and I've never been able to seperate them. So, selfishly...this day makes my stomach churn for more reasons than the obvious.
What does that say about me?
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1 comment:
It says your normal. And reassures us that life continues, with both the good and the bad, even in the midst of catastophic events.
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