I slept in late. I was working the swing shift at the time and had gotten in the habit of going to bed late and waking up really late. I had an appointment so I didn’t bother turning on the television when I woke up. No one was home. The house was quiet. I had just turned 19 a few days before.
I dressed and left the house. I turned on the radio, but there was no music to be heard. They kept talking about something (Something has happened! Horrible! Tragic! Something!), but I didn’t know what. I was curious, but, I admit, detached.
It was the same at the doctor’s office. The atmosphere was subdued. The radio was on. I still had no idea.
I didn’t find out until I returned home. My dad had come home early; he had every television in the house turned on and tuned to the news. And what they said was true. It was horrible. It was tragic. And it was so many other things.
It’s September 11th. People all over the world are talking about it. Some of them are even blogging about it. I had no plans to do the same, but last night I came home to find my mother watching 9/11 footage on YouTube and the impact of what had happened was just as strong as it was nine years ago.
It got me thinking. All day I’ve been thinking about how much life has changed since. My problems are trivial in comparison to the horror that so many people experience that day. But, despite tragedy, life continues. The good and the bad. We struggle, we fight, we complain, we get frustrated, stressed out, and want to throw our hands up and scream “I quit!”
And that’s okay.
But sometimes it’s important to take a step back, take a deep breath, and have a little perspective.
And hug. Hug often.