Few days in our lives can we reflect and remember each year exactly where we were, what we were doing, what we were wearing--the most minimal details of a day that otherwise could have passed as just another day. Except as we all learned in the early hours of Tuesday, September 11, 2001, this would not be just another day.
Today as we remember, mourn, give thanks, I remember that sunny day ten years ago.
I remember knowing what had happened, but not really knowing as our school chose to operate normally without TV coverage so as not to cause "a distraction" for the remainder of the day.
I remember going home scared, yet naive, about the details of what had unfolded while I continued on with English, Algebra and History.
I remember no one questioning that we would attend church on a Tuesday evening, a special mass for all of us to make sense of what had just happened that morning.
I remember the deafening silence as we filtered into church, the looks of fellow parishioners hoping to find solace that night.
I remember praying. For those lost, for those missing, for those who would never return home. For friends and for families, my own and all of those strangers whose images and faces had been burned in my brain from endless coverage on TV screens.
I remember trying to have faith, but hoping at the same time that the world wasn't falling apart. That tomorrow another building, and another plane wouldn't see the same fate. I remember being very scared.
Ten years later, on this chilling anniversary, I still pray. Maybe not in a crowded church, but silently on an overcast Sunday lost in thought.
I pray for those who sacrificed and those who continue to sacrifice today.
I pray for a war, that ten years later, still rages. For casualties that still mount.
I pray to never again remember another day so vividly.
I pray that today we all remember, and never forget.