10 Years Later

There isn't much I remember about the fourth grade. I was nine years old. My teacher was Mrs. McFadden. My best friend was Kari Fetrow. But besides the basics, the only two events I vividly remember was where I was on September 11th, 2001, and the untimely death of my grandmother. Why is it that we can so vividly recall pain, but not joy? I can't think of a single moment from the fourth grade where I was really happy, even though I'm sure I had my moments. Those things don't seem to stick with us as well.

Ten years is a long time to remember back, and it's interesting to see how much the world has changed (how much I have changed) and yet still some things seem to remain the same. As I sit here in my apartment at college, worried about my exams next week and my job interview tomorrow, I realize that I am really worrying about my future, and ten years ago I was probably doing the same thing. It makes me think of those involved in the twin towers. All of those people were worrying about the future just like I was/am. Worrying about their families, their car payments, what they're having for dinner that night, some of them got up in the morning with a specific goal that they never got to reach, and promises they never got to keep. Each of them had hopes, and dreams, and plans.

It's an incredibly sad thought, that these people promised their kids they'd be there to pick them up after school just like any other day, and then were forced to break that promise. But as America moves on, we move on for these people. We are still able to fight for them, for their promises, for their dreams. And it gives me strength to just move on for them, even though I didn't know anybody who was a victim personally. I feel like I know them, just by the criteria that we are all human, and we all should have the right to live, not in fear, but in hope for the future.

We need to thank our troops, regardless of your stance on the war, whom risk their lives every day to make sure we can fulfill our goals and promises. We need to thank the policemen and firemen who risked their lives that day, knowing that they may not make it. We need to thank the people who took the 911 calls, and consoled people in their last moments. And we need to thank ourselves, for being strong enough to move on, but not forget where we were that day, and what it means to be an American.