9/11 A Day of Reverence and Remembrance

When I hear stories from Mormor (my maternal grandmother) about the past, she can remember with startling details the assassination of JFK, the notice of death from a cousin in Vietnam, my birth, and many other days of impact. My paternal grandmother remembers Pearl Harbor. She remembers seeing the blood running down the hill and hiding in the oven during the bombing. Both women had been impacted directly from these moments. They understood what was happening and were changed by the actions.
For me, I remember the day my baby brother had his near drowning accident. I also remember the day nine months later that shook our nation to its core. I was taking a math test and a student was yelling something down the hall. I wasn’t paying attention because math wasn’t my best subject and I wanted to pass the test with at least a C.
Our teacher told the student to be quiet. She closed the door and we proceeded to take our test. It wasn’t until my computer class that I realized what the student was yelling about. Unlike most of my peers, I didn’t know what was going on. I didn’t care.
I was stuck in my own mind, my own inner turmoil because of my brother’s accident. During that time, I was depressed and didn’t see how anyone could understand my own emotions. I didn’t know anyone in NYC and I didn’t care. I honestly thought it was a terrible accident.
I didn’t know the impact until I got home. I still didn’t feel it until the next year when my mom had to go to Cuba to take care of the detainees as a nurse.
It wasn’t until a few years ago that I truly understand what was happening. It is terrible to say that I only have three strong memories of that time. It is terrible to say that those memories are cherished now. It is terrible to say that I am glad to know people truly did understand how I felt during that time.
I will never forget, even if I didn’t feel the same pain as others. But I am glad to say that I understand now.

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