I hate how it sneaks up on me, almost daily, around this time of year.
I was confirming the day of my hair appointment: “That’s September 11th, correct?”
While paying the mortgage I notice the due date: September 11.
Sometimes it’s really dumb things, like looking at the clock when the time is 9:11.
Walking past the television during the GOP Convention and out of the corner of my eye seeing a plane crash into one of the towers.
Painted on the police car at the stop light: dial 911 for emergencies.
Some things really make me mad. Like hearing a Talking Head on the news say “nine one one” instead of “nine eleven” or “September 11th.” 911 is a phone number not a date. Why is that such a hard concept for some otherwise intelligent people to grasp? No one celebrates Independence Day as “seven four.” No one calls New Year’s Day “one one.” That lack of attention to such a little detail seems hugely disrespectful.
Why do these things bother me so much? Why can’t I look at my watch and just simply think, “It’s eleven minutes after nine o’clock?”
That’s a rhetorical question, by the way. I don’t have an answer and I don’t think there is one.
Maybe they’re little reminders of how lucky we are. Lucky we have each other. Lucky when my husband comes home in the evening. Lucky that a plane didn’t fall out of the sky two blocks from the White House.
There are some things that we do every day since then. We kiss goodnight every night. We say, “I love you!” whenever we leave to do an errand. We never forget that so many people lost loved ones simply because they went to work.
We live more in the present. Sometimes I just sit and soak in my husband and my daughter. I notice the details: their smiles, their hugs. I try to absorb them somehow. Store them inside. Live in the moment. Feel grateful for every day we have and don’t take life for granted.
These are just some thoughts for today.
