Remembering September 11

It was a Tuesday.

The sky was a searing blue.

Here the news came early, the first crash, the second crash.

I remember driving my kids to school on such a perfect September day.

I remember the anguish and the fear running deep through my body, the sudden vulnerability coming on like a swift disease, lingering in the days after.

I remember that first week, the sky over the soccer fields quiet, empty except for the sun.

It felt like we were all holding our breath, it felt like the days were too bright.

I stop to think of that day eleven years ago, the lives lost and the lives shattered by loss and by all the losses since in the two wars–and that isn’t even all the lives.

I won’t go to any rallies today or hear any speeches. I’ll be far from the shadows of those twin towers.

But I stop.

How do you remember?