Under a Rock Today

Today, September 11, 2011, I am under a rock. Or at least I want to be.

It is very hard to describe why I want to check out today, ten years after the heinous attacks that occurred in New York City, Arlington, Virginia, and who-knows-the-intended-location for the plane that crashed in Shanksville, Pennsylvania.

The local and national media have been droning on and on about the ten year anniversary of these events (it is not one thing — not “9/11”!) I tell ‘ya, I just don’t want any more reminders of that tragic day in America’s history. I truly regret that so many people were killed by senseless acts of terrorism and am sorry for the families and loved-ones of those who died, including the brave rescuers who were trying to save lives but lost their own.

I did not lose anyone in those attacks, yet I was personally affected — permanently. I spent months in New York after the attack there from mid-September, 2001, through the following March providing direct long-term assistance. The personal stories, the sights, and even recollection of the smell (of burnt electrical insulation from the buildings that were destroyed)… all of that haunts me to this day. That is why I plan never to go back to New York City… too many bad memories.

Why do I want to be under a rock today? Mostly to deal with my own memories and observe my own way of recognizing those who died and their families in a respectful way. But that’s it. I do NOT want to see images again of the attacks, the destruction, the buildings on fire or collapsing, or of the people and families affected. It just hurts too much — plus, the media hypes stuff up so much to get ratings that they lose all meaning of what a respectful recognition should be.

I’m done. September 11, 2001, is a date which will live in infamy, even if the rest of the world still calls it 9/11 and forgets about it on 9/12.

Further, another reason that I want to check out today is that my Mom died on September 11, 1998. This date has many bad memories for various reasons, and I would rather remember my Mom’s warm smile, her touch, and her lessons than any darn stuff that the media may be doing.

Life is short: remember those you love, and show them that you love them.

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About BHD

I am an average middle-aged biker who lives in the greater suburban sprawl of the Maryland suburbs north and west of Washington, DC, USA.