Sunday, September 11, 2011

Ten Years

Can you believe it's been ten years since it happened? I was eight. I didn't understand what was happening, and, to be quite honest, I didn't care to, either. I didn't understand why we were even watching it, nor did I understand how my mother could cry for so many people she didn't even know. And, honestly, I still don't.

In the following days, I do remember there being a certain sense of fear that hung in the air. Wondering if it's truly safe to fly, hoping that no one will try to crash a plane into our house, and, wondering if we would ever get them, the terrorists, specifically Osama Bin Laden, who were behind this.

But the fear slowly faded, and my lack of understanding about that day was never really requited. No, I never felt the pain, I never understood the prayer that seemed to poor out of my mother's mouth while behind her, on our small tv, there was the image of towers that had smoke, thick, black smoke, poring out of them reaching toward the beautiful blue sky.

How interesting it is that the sky was so calm and clean, clear of storms on that day of death.

How interesting that it has taken me these ten years to come close to realizing what happened, exactly on that day of death.

How interesting it is that it nearly took ten years to bring some semblance of justice to the families who still grieve and feel pain on this day.

When Bin Laden was killed, I had to sort through my feelings about that moment. I wasn't happy, though I was relieved. And yet, there was a slight fear. Fear of retaliation. I suppose that's still there, somewhere, but, I'm not sure.

I wasn't happy because, well, I couldn't be. Could I? A man we've all agreed, at one point or another, deserved death, and here, he got it. Yet, I wasn't happy or pleased. He was dead. Without trial, though I don't believe he needed it. A trial would have been more of a formality than a serious ordeal, after everything he's done.

So, what to do? Only one thing - look back. I looked back at the towers, the smoke, the panic, the death. And, looking back, I realized that I don't celebrate in his death, but, the justice of it. Murders were repaid. Families, I can only hope, can feel a slight bit of healing, another step knowing that their loved ones didn't die unavenged.

My, my. Ten years. They've gone by so fast, and, yet, that image is still crystal clear.