It has been 15 years.
15 years since the morning I woke up to confusion and terror.
I saw it on the news, the first plane hit and then after some speculation another. No one at my home knew what to say and I continued on to school just like any other day.
Middle school, 6th grade. I walked, mind full of thoughts.
All any of our teachers did was watch the news, every class. Some kids cried but mostly it was just a sea of stunned faces. I grew up in California so we were far away, it was almost unreal and yet somehow it was too real.
We were told to never forget, and honestly I don’t think I ever could, but I do wonder if the term never forget just leads to anger and paranoia.
I won’t get into conspiracy theories, it’s really not the time, but ultimately it doesn’t matter. That day changed me forever, it changed any American old enough (or maybe young enough) to see it and it changed us forever. We need to be able move on though.
Not forget, never forget, but we need to keep on keeping on. We need to learn from it that life is short and that crazy circumstances wait at every corner. So do what makes you happy, be peaceful but do what makes you happy. Every day. Never go to bed angry. Remember what it is we’re never forgetting.
It’s the feeling not the anger. Never forget how small you felt. Never forget to love your friends and family. Never forget that desire to help those in need.