I avoided writing about September 11th yesterday because I felt like there are so many people out there who have more important and more personal stories to tell. Like Meg Cabot's story of waiting in agony to know whether her husband, who worked in lower Manhattan, was OK. Or the fighter pilot who was prepared to give up her life to bring down Flight 93. My experience was nowhere near as tragic and heart-wrenching as so many Americans experienced on that fateful day ten years ago.
I also avoided watching the news because I feared I would get sucked in and I would just start sobbing uncontrollably. I just didn't feel like having my emotions manipulated and toyed with.
But I couldn't avoid it completely because this morning, as my homeroom and I were watching Channel One and they showed the footage of those towers falling, the tears in my eyes inevitably started falling. The kids, who were only babies when this happened, sat there rather stoic, but for me, it all came back to me in vivid detail. It amazes me that ten years later, that day can still invoke such emotions in everyone who remembers it, even if we weren't directly affected.
My prayers are with all the families who lost loved-ones on September 11th. Just know that an entire country grieves with you and always will.