Friday, September 11, 2009

9/11

I wasn't there that day. My wife was. 
She doesn't often talk about it.

In my family we have traditions around grief and loss, some of them make sense, some of them not so much. In the conventional world it seems appropriate to recall the first, fifth, tenth anniversaries and so on, to say the right things and lay the wreaths in the correct places. In my self it makes sense to cry when it feels right, to hug when it's needed, to laugh when things are funny and so on. I was always told that those in grief need support and memories long after the funeral, in the days and months after the mourners have left, that's when my mum would visit friends with cakes and appalling jokes and sit around and remember the loved and lost.

It feels a bit like that today. My thoughts have turned to those who still live with that day, everyday.


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