Sunday, September 11, 2011


9-11 is the date, the anniversary number is 10 and we are a country still stumbling under the heavy-wet-wool sweater of hate. Hate is hard on people and takes a lot of effort. Hate feeds on itself and spreads like wildfire. And yet we still hate. We still feed the hate and we do not appear to be anywhere close to letting go of even some of that hate. It doesn't appear to matter where we direct that hate, so long as we maintain it. That in itself is a scary thing. Our country has a right to some of the hate. No doubt about it. Our country has traveled many wrong paths in the pursuit of this hate. We seem incapable of admitting this, much less apologizing to those we have harmed in the pursuit of revenge born of our hate. We seem surprised that, more and more, people outside of our country have deep hate for us. We have a double standard of hate. We openly hate those whose ideals and opinions are different than ours -- even here on our own soil. 10 years of hate and nothing has really changed.
9-11-2001 -- a deep and vicious wound was opened in our country. That wound should be healing, in small degrees, but it is not. I look at the news and the fighting within and across our political parties and I see a country that has lost sight of itself. I see that we have done little to truly heal and when I see that I wonder if the enemy has truly won. A wound is meant to heal. When it doesn't heal, the infection is not stopped and it continues to spread and devour all it can it its path. We are now so very unstable and unsure of ourselves that the enemy may just have the result they wanted after all. We may not need the help of the enemy to destroy us, because we may just do so on our own because we refuse to heal.

I lived on the east coast, in a tiny DC suburb back then. My husband works for a federal agency and that day he was at his office. I endured the fear of not knowing what federal agencies were being targeted and why. I endured the hours of no communication because the lines were overwhelmed. I held on to my belief that my husband was not in the line of fire that day until the moment he arrived home safe and sound. I am eternally grateful that his agency was not harmed directly. I am deeply saddened by the horrific losses others endured that day.

Today I am physically further away, but my mind is back in a place where shock and horror are at the forefront. Tomorrow I hope to be in a place where we have taken one step closer to healing and closing the festering wound we call 9-11. None of us who were old enough to understand will forget it and no one expects us to. What I think we are expected to do is help each other heal and so far we have done little to achieve that as a nation. The bigger the divide gets the more open and susceptible we are to deeper, more treacherous evils.

Think back to a silly movie called Ghostbusters II. There is a lot of  truth to be found at the end of that movie... We had a positive vibe running through our country in the early days, weeks, months and even the first few years following 9-11. Now? Not so much. Today I see, hear and feel anger and hate and until we gain control of it we will never win against the enemy that harmed us so deeply.

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