I teach a workshop on Living in History. It is my passion that we write our experience of historical events in our lifetimes for future generations to read. We should tell what we remember, what we felt, but most important of all, what we learned. How did our lives change?
My grandchildren will read about the attacks of September 11, 2001 in textbooks. They will learn where it happened, how many people died, the economical effects it had around the world, how it changed our security and even see pictures. But what they won’t read is how it changed me.
I remember thinking about the morning before the victims of 911 left for work. What happened? Did they leave angry, hurtful, words hanging between them and their family or friends thinking they would get it right later? Did they ignore them? I listened to desperate phone calls made when it was obvious to some that they were going to die. I’ve heard that you speak the most important thing when you know your time on earth is coming to a close. The three frantic words spoken on those calls were “I love you.”
I love you .
I want my grandchildren to know the power of those three words. I want them to never leave their homes without affirming their loved ones. We don’t know what the day will bring. Who, when boarding those jets expected it to become a weapon of mass destruction? Who, when sitting at their desk expected a jet to fly into their office?
Thirteen years after the attack, I see the remembrance fading into vapor. It is no longer a headline on the news sites. It has been reduced to a single line below the banners. Maybe a tiny picture. Soon it won’t be noticeable at all, that is until another attack occurs. And another attack will.
Don’t let it fade or anything else that happens in your lifetime. Telling as story and writing a story is what vapor is to stone. Even if it is only a paragraph, give wisdom and guidance to future generations.
I’m closing this post with these words:
I appreciate you, my readers.