Then there are us. We were there when She got wounded. We saw the first blow, the second, the third and the fourth. As She fell to her knees in pain, so did we. We held her hand and cried with her in unbelief. We all gathered to mourn together and to help her heal, yet her scar remained and so it also remains in our hearts. Time eases the pain but it dishonors her to forget the blows She took and how She mustered strength with the help of all of us to let her lean on us for a short while, whether we were man or woman or even child; in uniform or not, regardless of nationality or race. We were one working together to lift her up.
For a moment in history, it united us, making us kind toward strangers, supporting one another through the darkness. It awakened us to our vulnerability and made us more vigil.
As time goes on, the pain changes. For some, they too have scars which run deep from this. Some, just have an ache in their heart that rekindles in the memory. But there are some who have distanced themselves from the memory and the pain. For them, the past is done.
Yes, it is the past, but we need to remember--remember the wake-up call that shook and shocked us.
Remember the pain but especially remember the unity, the caring, the healing we shared together as we got up from our knees and for a while, stood together regardless of our other differences. It is sad that it took such an event to slow us down and to make us think of what is important in life.
Today, as we face other battles and She is receiving blows of different kinds throughout our nation, from floods and hurricanes, and fires and more, isn't that enough? Can't we all once again unite regardless of differences? Do we need catastrophes to keep us together? A true family is there for one another. Where is my family, America?
