Remembering September 11th

I didn't attend this year's 9-11 remembrance ceremony. I've only missed it once before. That was the year (2003) Jeff was deployed to Bosnia.

Maybe if the kids hadn't been in school. Maybe if I hadn't been so busy at work. Maybe...

The annual ceremony has become one of my most consistently photographed events each year. As I look back through the albums and computer drives, it strikes me how young Jeff looked that first year.

And how much spare time I had to scrapbook it all.

So that was 2002.

The next time I took pictures was in 2005. This photo still hangs on AJ's bedroom wall.

My photo-taking efforts lapsed for a few more years. I recall one year attending the ceremony on my lunch break, and another year doing all I could to keep a newborn and toddler quiet through the solemn event. I'm pretty sure it was the following year I was thrilled to again be able to attend without kids.

The location has moved around a few times. From the Bayfront, to the Depot, and, in 2009, to Wade Stadium.

(Yes, I know how to stage a photo opp.)

By 2010, AJ was starting to ask questions about what happened on September 11th, and I found myself dealing with the issue parents had been facing since 2001: how do you explain something so evil to an innocent child?

Last year, the event moved again, this time to the DECC. I guess technically I missed that ceremony. AJ had had soccer practice and by the time we got there it was all over, other than the honor guards packing up their gear.

I look back on these pictures and can't help but marvel at how much life we've been blessed to experience since 2001. Which drives home the realization all the more of how much the victims and their families have been deprived of these last 11 years.

Life has gone on.

Part of me is grateful that there's been less emphasis on the anniversary this year. AJ hasn't thought about it, which means he hasn't asked any questions, and Sydney has no idea of the significance. And that makes me feel guilty. Forgetting is all to easy. It's remembering that hurts. I can't help but wonder if by skipping this year's ceremony, if somehow I'm taking the easy way out. I did forget - for the first time - to wear the red, white and blue ribbon given to me by a co-worker at the time at the Aquarium.

There is no single correct answer for what's the best way to remember and honor those who died that day. For each person, that answer will be different.

For me, as soon as I finish writing this, I'm going to hug my husband and children and take a moment to remember how lucky we are to be here together. That's my answer.

We must never forget those who died. But we as survivors must also remember - and be grateful for - the blessings that have come since then.