Today is September 10, which is the Eve of the 10th anniversary of the September 11th attacks, and I'm immersing myself in memories. I don't have any direct ties to any of the victims of that day, but as an American I was directly effected, and fundamentally changed.
My son asked last night, "Between this and Pearl Harbor, which one was worse?" I immediately said, "9/11." Maybe because it happened during my lifetime, and I have vivid memories of the day. More likely because the terrorists disregarded commonly accepted practices of war, and completely obliterated any notions of safety we had as private citizens. The targets were not military, but civilian. Moms and Dads. Children accompanying their parents on cross-country airplane rides. Secretaries headed to their desks for another mundane Tuesday morning of dictation. Firemen, policemen, lawyers, waiters. People who went to bed the night before beside their loved ones, running out the door that morning without any idea that their moments on this earth were numbered. What happened that day was unthinkable, at least by any moral standard we'd known to that point. It was criminal, immoral, ungodly. And it was carried out in the name of God, by men who professed an allegience to Allah that demanded the sacrifice of not only their own lives, but the lives of innocent strangers. Truly unthinkable, and yet, completely within the realm of the possible. Because it did happen. I've seen the footage, the images burned into my retinas of office workers running from the dust cloud, of firemen walking dazedly into the rubble. And I've heard the voices, the cell phone calls home from a doomed plane, the panicked utterance of a man trapped on the 105th floor of the south tower, the grief on his wife's face as she described the moment the phone went dead, the moment she knew the love of her life was gone. Unthinkable.
I think often of those phone calls. They tell the story behind the story, the real human cost of the tragedy. And I wonder what my last words would be to my loved ones if I were in a similar situation. I've never doubted that my thoughts would turn to my family, but what would I say? How would I express what was in my heart under such dire circumstances? How do you say goodbye, I love you, it's been great?
The song "One More Day" by Diamond Rio received a lot of air time in the days following the attacks. I loved the lyrics, and cried every time it came on the radio. If I had one wish, what would it be? One more day with you. One more time, one more sunset. I'd hold you every second, say a million I love you's. But it wouldn't be enough; I'd still be left wishing for one more day with you. Simple words, but oh, the heartache, the yearning to be with a loved one for just one more day. I can't think about it now without tearing up.
So, the lesson of 9/11? Love your family, and tell them often. Look them in the eyes, and say those words we all love to hear, "I love you". Never let the sun set on a day without an "I love you". Never let a loved one leave for work or school without hearing the words "I love you". None of us knows the length of time we'll be alotted here on earth, whether we have months left, or years, or merely days. "I love you". It's easy, free, and most of all, the only thing remaining once a loved one is gone. Go find someone you love and say it.... now! I love you!!
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