Remembering

As the ten-year anniversary of 9/11 approached, the media was filled with frequent publicity announcements about the memorial at Ground Zero. As the broadcasts showed shots of the new trade tower and the waterfalls, we were repeatedly asked to think about where we were exactly ten years ago, on September 11th, 2001.

I was seven years old and on holiday in Florida visiting my great Aunt and Uncle. Ten years ago, I was sitting in precisely the same chair in the kitchen as I have been eating breakfast in for the last three days.  I was sitting in the same chair as I watched the memorial ceremony today. 

Of course, when I was seven, I barely understood what had occurred.  All I knew was that everyone around me was horrified, and that I got to spend an extra week with my family away from school.  My parents, aunt and uncle, could talk about nothing else—replaying the events and the aftermath.  Even though I have such a clear memory of where I was, I still don’t know the exact moment when I understood. 

I now understand, and am aghast at what we do to ourselves in the name of justice, revenge, and god.  But then, when I was in grade three, I couldn’t comprehend the enormity of what had occurred 1046 miles away.  Today, I feel immense sorrow for the surviving families, the passengers, and the heroes of 9/11.  However, this feeling is completely removed from my memory and what happened ten years ago.  This is of course different than my parents; they can remember the shock and the horror that they experienced then.  They have a multi-dimensional grief composed of remembered and current feelings.  I think that in future generations, as we become farther removed from the raw emotions of experiencing the actual event, we will need to remember in different ways.