the day we will never be allowed to forget

I do remember.

Every moment.

Had one child in Kinder.

Had one child in my arms.

Had one child on the way.

I had been sitting at my pregnancy chatroom when some one came on and said, "Holy shit!  Someone just flew a plane into the World Trade Center!"

At first, all of us were, "Pfft.  Yeah, right.  Not funny."

Then she said, "No seriously!!!  Go look for yourselves."

And I did.

And I couldn't breathe.

I have never ever ever been that completely terrified in my life.

I went and got my daughter from school and begged my husband to please come home.

None of us had any clue whether they would hit our town with another plane or a bomb.

Thank goodness it was neither.

But now, I am done.

I don't want to remember anymore.  I don't want that feeling of fear curling up in my soul like a rancid hot dog.

Today is a day when I stay away from public t.v. and, for the most part, Facebook and any other type of media that wants to show those images over and over again.  The images of a plane crashing into a building.  The images of people jumping to their deaths.

No. More.

It is said that if we forget the past we are doomed to repeat it.

We are also told that we need to move on in order to heal.

I am moving on.

So, please, keep your images of buildings and eagles crying and Alan Jackson/Toby Keith songs to yourselves and think about it: are you remembering the past or wallowing in it.

Peace, Love and (shut the fuck up already...I'm grounding because of your sick obsession) Zombies \IiiI