…on with the show.
The 10th anniversary of the September 11th, 2001 attacks on the WTC and the Pentagon was a hard day. My church co-hosted an interfaith service titled “Ashes to Hope” with about 10 other church/mosque/temple-type places, and while it was amazing, and incredibly well done, and really well-attended, it was also gut-wrenching. The first half was dedicated to prayers of many different faiths and remembrances of the victims, the attackers, families, first responders, and children who were affected. The Four Fathers–an a cappella group from my church–sang the most beautiful song about the children and their prayers (the link is rehearsal footage) for “who will help” them and how they’re supposed to live and love… I cried like a little girl with a skinned knee. Thankfully, the second half of the service was about hope, rebuilding, building communities, and learning to move on and do our best.
The best part of Sunday was sitting with friends from church in a coffee shop afterward talking about our lives, memories of growing up, our families, and everything else that happened to fall out of our mouths. After that broke up, a few of us went for dinner and talked and laughed even more. It was amazing, and so much fun.
Now, as I sit in the library waiting to go to work for the day, I’ve got this feeling of…well, weight would be the word…sitting over my head and on my chest. I’m not sure if I’m tired, or still feeling all the grief and swelling of emotions from Sunday. I feel the need to move on and get away from it, and yet I feel the need to go home, get under the covers, and get lost in it. It’s proving very difficult to get around–or through, or whatever.
For the moment, I think I need to drink some water, and possibly some more coffee. Simple solutions are a good way to start, right? 🙂