My personal National Day of Mourning

September 11th is my own Personal National Day of Mourning..... There is hardly an American alive, born before the turn of the century, who cannot tell you where they were and what they were doing when they heard of the unthinkable horror. Someone, some country, some group had hijacked airplanes and flown them into two of the tallest towers of the World Trade Center, into the Pentagon building, into a field in Pennsylvania..... Ask anyone and they will tell you: “I was in school out in Colorado. I had just woke up and turned on the news.” “I was in my office, just downtown. I looked out the window and saw smoke.”..... Did they mourn at the time? Not yet. They were horrified. They were confused. They were stunned. Mourning came in the days following, as did solidarity, and American pride. Mourning gave way to morning, and now it's ten years later. The time, some say, for mourning is over. It's a new day. A new memorial stands in the place of the twin towers. People say it's beautiful..... So,what am I going on about? Why am I still grief-stricken? Why is today my own Personal, National Day of Mourning? What I grieve for, every year; what I will always grieve for, are the stories we will not hear, from the people whose lives were cut short, whose moments were frozen, who cannot “remember” the day, the hours, and the moments leading up to their end of days:.... There was Maria, who was up at 6:00 to get ready for work. She showered, brushed her teeth, and read the newspaper before facing the long commute into the city. Some asshole cut her off in traffic and as she hit the brakes to avoid a collision, she spilled coffee down the front of her skirt. “Great!” she thought. Well, the skirt was grey, so maybe it wouldn't stain..... There was Mark, who was having an affair with a woman in the office. He was smiling to himself as he read the email from his boss, recognizing his hard work on last week's project. He was due for a review soon, and he might ask for a raise..... There was Walter, who had had another fight with his wife last night, and then snapped at the girl at the copy machine. The phone rang as soon as he sat down. “What now?”.... There was Linda who had been up all night with a puking three-year old and had had to call to arrange an alternate babysitter because the daycare certainly wouldn't take a sick kid. She felt a headache coming on, and reached into her desk drawer for the bottle of Tylenol..... There was Avery who was, by God, a man now, a proud, educated man, who was reduced to working mornings, running errands and hefting packages like his slave ancestors, because his mother was ill and demanded he bring in some money for rent, even though going to college afternoons was a full-time job..... Perhaps these people, these ordinary schmucks like you and I, perhaps they're all in heaven or purgatory, or wherever you go when you die. Perhaps they speak to each other, tell where they were and what they were doing in the moments before the world dissolved into burning, screaming chaos..... I mourn for these people, whom I have never met. I mourn for their families. I am outraged by the rhetoric and diatribe surrounding 9/11. Conspiricists, passivists, militants, peace-mongers and politicians, all trying to make the suffering invisible or, at the very least, all about Them..... The United States of America has decided not to declare 9/11 a National Day of Mourning. They don't want to make this day into just another paid holiday, just another 3-day weekend, another excuse for families to get together to barbeque. Especially since they just celebrated Labor Day. Instead, they say, let this be a day to volunteer in our community, to “reflect”, to pause for a moment of silence at four specific times in the day, or just once, at noon, because who can keep the times all straight?.... As for me, however, I will not work on September 11th. I will take a “personal day”. I will cancel all plans, refuse to take calls. I will not let the day go by without marking, without remembering, where these people were when America was attacked and my naivety was shattered into a million tiny pieces..I had never dreamed that there could be a world that dark, a mind that evil, a soul that black, as to think up such a heinous act of slaughter..... Where were you on September 11th? Where are you today? I will be at home. Right here. Remembering.