It turns out that seven years is not long enough. Seven years is not long enough to stop reliving waking up to a ringing phone and my mom telling me to turn on the TV. To the first tower falling as I switched it on. Seven years is not long enough for the upwelling of emotion to be forgotten: fear, horror, anger, uncertainty, sadness. Every year I am as overwhelmed as I was that first day. Seven years is not long enough for my world to be the way it was. I realize there will never be enough years for that.
Life changed after that day. I changed. I feel more strongly my love of freedom, my resolve to enjoy life. I know that evil exists and the battle for free agency rages even now. I know that there are those that hate us for being free, for worshipping our God, and they will not stop till we or they are gone. They prey on those yearning for a better life to try to take away ours.
And after all this time I pray. I pray for those who lost loved ones. I pray for leaders who are still trying to protect our country the best they know how. I pray for those who felt they were doing right and for their mothers who felt the same. I don’t pray for their leaders, who taught them so. Seven years is not long enough to trust what I would say if I tried.
I pray for our country. I pray my children will not have to live such a day. I pray I can raise them to be willing to sacrifice if such a day comes again. I pray I would be able to do the same. And I pray that America will not forget. I beg for the sake of my children’s future, please don’t forget. Don’t sink back to indifference and arrogance. And although this day of grief and remembrance has been tempered by the birth of my son, 2 years ago today; as I listened to the news this morning, I realized that 7 years is still not long enough.