almost every american alive knows what happened two years ago today. each generation seems to have this moment, the one where we can say, "i remember where i was when i heard…"
each has probably thought of those events and their effect, both on our lives and on the lives of others. these reminiscences and the emotions they inspire are intensely personal; i would never presume to guess how others experience their grief or anger or sadness or hope. my memories still bring acrid, angry tears if i decide to let them come.
in memoriam to those who died, in the towers, in the air, and in the belief that what they were doing was somehow the right thing, i present a list…a list of eleven of my everyday things, because what happens every day is what probably matters most in the end.
- every day i forget to remember all the things i shouldn’t forget
- every day i listen to the thrilling and boring symphony of the everyday; the same symphony is never played twice
- every day i walk past people whose lives are a mystery to me
- every day i love Elaine and my friends and my family, imperfectly
- every day i worry about tiny things – my stock portfolio, what i should wear to work, whether people notice my belly
- every day i breathe the same air that you have breathed
- every day i marvel at the six degrees of separation between us
- every day i wonder when we will wake up and stop killing each other in the name of righteousness or money or land or something equally stupid and meaningless in the end goddamn it
- every day i eat the stuff of stars
- every day i am one day closer to death
- every day i walk this planet with all of you is a precious gift, one that i treat as if it’s just another day
NOTE: this entry was inspired by an hour-long "sonic tribute" to those lost on 9/11 (aired on NPR).
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