I, like everyone else, remembers exactly where I was that day, what I was doing, so on and so forth.
But does that really matter? Sure, it helps us to contextualize our lives a bit and may make us feel nostalgic to whatever was going on in our lives 13 years ago, but how has your life changed since?
It struck me this morning, as people kept mentioning that 9/11/2001 was 13 years ago, that 13 years is half of 26, as in my age. That morning quite literally bisected my life at a crucially important stage in my upbringing.
At 13, I still had a bedtime. Now, I have an IRA.
I absolutely loved what Allison Geyer wrote in the La Crosse Tribune this morning, and every word resonated with how I was feeling.
She hits the nail on the head here.
The years dragged on and the world grew darker, more fearful. Hate crimes against Muslims, Sikhs and anyone with brown skin proliferated. As we entered high school, the U.S. invaded Iraq, looking for weapons of mass destruction and a connection to al-Qaida - and found neither.
As we became adults, we grappled with the conundrum of supporting our country while embroiled in a war we didn’t understand and maybe didn’t support. Pundits argued. Political divides deepened. Our leaders told us to "stay the course." Meanwhile, kids my age got blown apart by roadside bombs.
What's that thing people say about 9/11? Never forget?
Well, there’s no chance of that. Especially to a generation that’s never known any different.
I'll never forget because I can't. It's all I know. My parents remember a world before 9/11. For all intents and purposes, I don't. I'm going on vacation next week, and I've never been on an airplane without having to take my shoes off first, and probably will never board one without doing so.
Sure, we remember today, and rightfully so. But in all honesty, for people my age, we're always remembering because it's all we know.