I've been thinking about it all afternoon and evening. I want to say something meaningful about the date, about the anniversary, but I have nothing. Sometimes you feel and can't talk. Sometimes your words seem shallow. You weren't there, covered in ash. You weren't there with broken heart and broken life. You were only there in your mind and that's not really so much.
And so instead of my words I give you links to other, more eloquent speakers. First, this essay by Lizbeth, who was across the river that day, her husband in the city. Not in the inferno, but closer and far more tangible for her than for me, mourning my city from three thousand miles away, the smoke in my nostrils only echoed ghost tendrils.
The second one my friend Chris pointed out today in her blog: John Edwards' moving speech at a prayer breakfast this morning.
Both made me cry. I don't have the words, but I'm grateful that they do.
Posted by Tamar at September 11, 2004 09:45 PM