Jami, Beyond Remembering

Eight years, since we watched in uncomprehending horror as our world changed forever. We have moved on, lived, laughed, loved. We still remember, but we do not, cannot live in those moments. That day, those hours, are not what will define our lifetimes, no matter how they reshaped our thinking or our lives. I won't rehash with you where I was or what I did. I've done that and I will share it with my children and, God willing, their children as well. I will forever feel hot tears when I see the replay, either on a screen or in my mind. I must remember because I can't forget, nor should I. What we saw that day, that my friends was Evil. Regardless of religion or race, the acts of those men and those who had a hand in planning held no redeeming quality, no nobility, no room for forgiveness. The acts we saw afterward, those were Americans - risking their lives to save others, reaching out to the grieving, doing what had to be done. Carrying disabled coworkers down flights of steps. Sacrificing one's own life to stop flight 93. Donating blood, clothing, time, money. Public displays of mourning, of hope, of determination that this should not happen ever again. I am proud of America. I believe we can hold our heads up high and say that our country isn't perfect, but our people are damn good people. We survived this crisis with grace and dignity and we will continue to survive and thrive. You took some of our family and friends, and a few buildings, but you will not take our spirit. God has blessed America, and I pray he continues to do so.