Sometimes I Forget Things.

Like how I wrote this post exactly a year ago, on the tenth anniversary of 9/11.

How shamefully easy for people like me to forget.

And then I think about all those people who died. And their families, their friends, their lovers who are still alive, who will never have the chance to say what they have wanted to say face-to-face every day sinceI love you. You are a gift. They don’t forget.

I don’t want to forget their sorrow, to give up because of sorrow, because of them. I mean that.

Here is a quick and beautiful essay by Brian Doyle on leaping, on faith and love. Above all, love.


One Reply to “Sometimes I Forget Things.”

  1. Thank you Tara. I have been remembering in small pieces today, but really wishing I was remembering more emotionally, more intensely, more gratefully. All of your words help me to feel more deeply the connection to that which 11 years ago was 3,000 miles away for the first 6 hours, then each hour for days seemed to get closer and closer to me and filled more and more of my heart.

    I am grateful that it was compassion and not hatred that filled my heart then. Thank you for filling my heart again today. Brian Doyle’s piece is difficult to read for blurriness that seems to start about halfway through the text of the second paragraph and doesn’t leave until I wipe my eyes.

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