Yesterday, we participated in our first organized group ride on our bike. I’m really glad it was to commemorate the 9-11 tragedy of 2001 and largely focused this year on first responders and the community involvement. It was a a 50 mile trek from Ybor City, across the bay, and down Bayshore Boulevard before finally ending in Riverview.
There were different clubs or groups from various walks of life but most were military or law enforcement based. The Nam Knights, Special Forces, Tampa Fire and Rolling Thunder to name just a few…all combined in efforts and enthusiasm.
It reminds me of how united America was in the days and weeks following 9-11-01. Flags were flying and people were more cognizant of relationships and the precious gift of time. We slowed down a little and took inventory of what was truly important. Kisses in the morning before kids and spouses went in different directions and saying “I love you” meant something a bit more. The horrifying reality that we are not guaranteed tomorrow lived in our hearts and minds in a very profound way.
I think we’ve forgotten that level of consciousness ~ true, life needed to return to a semblance of normalcy as quickly as possible ~ but W and I noticed on the ride yesterday that there weren’t many flags flying proudly on homes across the Tampa Bay area. Ours was. Except for the small group of people gathered on Bayshore, waving their flags and waving to all of us on our motorcycles, there was little to remind me of what happened 9 years ago.
It isn’t easy to remember what happened. Last night, on the History channel, there were the annual documentaries of 9-11. The ones I have watched every year for the last several years ~ I watch the plane footage, the collapse of the buildings, the rescue efforts, listen to the survivors recount their stories, listen to surviving family members try to explain their pain. Every year, watching the program is difficult and unexplainable. Every single year. Sometimes, the things we need to remember the most are the post painful.
When did America start believing that tomorrow is promised to us? It’s not about being angry at a group of radical terrorists, though I am. It isn’t about the sadness that comes with watching people fight over religion, though I am. It’s about recognizing and pausing on 9-11 and every day since 9-11-01 for just a moment to pay respect to those who perished on that day and it’s about “united” we stand. Most importantly, it’s knowing that tomorrow isn’t promised to any of us and we need to take stock of our lives while we can.
Maybe it’s because we lived a mile from Dulles International where these terrorists took off from; maybe it’s because we had friends who were in and out of the Pentagon daily; maybe it’s because W served as a CACO (Casualty Assistance Calls Officer) to a family who lost their husband/father; maybe it’s because we actually attended the funeral of this same man who went to work on a Tuesday morning and was murdered while sitting at his desk. Maybe it’s just because I’m American but it’s difficult…no, it’s intolerable that we are just going about our day on September 11th like it’s any other day because it isn’t.
God Bless America
and may God bless, especially, those who lost their lives on 9-11-01
Awesome Amy! GOD BLESS AMERICA!