For the first time, I decided not to go to the World Trade Center site on today’s anniversary. My wife has wondered for years why I insisted on going. I said it was to pay respect and my thanks. It is my unfuneral.
But this year the hole is, at long last — too long — filling up. This year, the place will be used to score political points — at least it will be in a fair and balanced way. This year, I’m busy with life.
And this year, I’m angry. Every year, the emotion is different. I take my own pulse on the day. That emotion is a bit more self-centered this year, probably because I’m upset that the health condition that came out of 9/11 for me continues (though I’m fine). Last night, because of the condition, I got screwed by an insurance company, which also brought forward the life-passing-before-eyes moment of seven years ago. It’s making 9/11 seem like Groundhog Day. It won’t go away.
It’s vital that we remember. That is why I went to the site for six years. But there’s no forgetting.
