Fourteen years ago today, I was waking up in my mom's house in Seattle when my dad called us to tell us to turn on the news. I didn't know anyone in New York. I'd never even been there outside of the airport. However, I knew I was watching history unfold, and I knew that this was a level of tragedy that I could not comprehend. I still struggle, and fail, to comprehend it. I know that the horror of what occurred still haunts many people.
Fast-forward to today. This morning I watched my 5 month old son roll around on his play mat happily and it struck me that to him, 9/11 will just be something that happened in a history book... like the Vietnam War to my generation... and World War II to my parents... and World War I to my grandparents. Every generation has their tragedy and their war. Is it so crazy for me to hope that this trend skips a generation with his?
So today, I reflect on 9/11, and on the devastating tragedies that are still occurring throughout our world, and I hope that someday, somehow, we stop having days like today that we need to remember.
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