Thirteen. Thirteen years. Really? Is that even possible?
This morning, I woke in my hotel in Florida and went about my morning. About 10 minutes afterwards, it hit me what the date was. And I was surprised. It snuck up on me.
Thing is, you never know how you're gonna feel on this day. I know that's true for the other folks that went through it on that day. You can wake up and just know it. You can wake up and not remember, but it's inevitable that something in your gut will remind you. You can spend the entire week leading up to it knowing it's coming because you are avoiding all of those shows and specials, and most of all, those images. You dread the morning the evening before because you'll remember. Or because you'll be forced to see those images, no matter where you turn. Because even then, when you see those, you never really know how you will react.
I found myself looking up into the sky more often today. Not with any particular thought in my head, not this year. I just realized after a moment that I was looking at the sky at few times today. Subconscious? Maybe. Habit? Who knows. I am in a hotel next to an airport. On this day, of all days. So I'm thinking subconscious. But the quiet in my brain was a comfort. Until I realized it was quiet. Then it was unsettling. But on this day, you forgive yourself. Because. It's that day and you just do.
A post today on Facebook triggered me to go to an old blog post. And before you knew it, I was staring at old blog posts. And I apparently blog on this date or near this date every year, with a few exceptions. And I read. The evolution of this date. This anniversary. I suspect that the years I didn't write were maybe more like today, where I felt enough but not enough. And some years were years I felt too much. Some of them brought feelings rushing back, under the surface. Others made me think. I'm thankful I feel this is a place to share those thoughts that run through my head on this day, those past days. And thankful for the perspective they give me. If you're interested in reading them, the links to the years are below.
It occurs to me that the last time I felt something horribly strong was the 10 year anniversary, it was so raw again. And it just so happened I was in Florida then. This year, it's almost a blessing to feel... what is it? It's not numb. It's certainly not nothing. But it's not something. And that's the blessing. Weirdly.
There is one ritual of the day that I will always observe, and that's checking in on some folks today. Just to see if they are feeling too much today. There's a comfort in that. We don't have to say much to each other. We just know. Some folks make it a point to send me notes today. It's appreciated. More than you will know. I don't know that it'll ever stop. I don't think I ever wish it to. It's also a blessing.
I will always feel something today. I will always feel torn. I will always remember. But today is not overwhelming. Thankfully. But it is quiet. And in the quiet, I find the weight. I find the peace. And the melancholy. And the memory. And the hope. And the sad. That's what I've been running from all day. And yet, it caught up with me. The silence. The quiet.
In this case, Tennyson said it best.
2001 (yes, actually. no, not a blog post)
2002
2003 (not exactly that day, but related)
2006
2011 (definitely related)
2012
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