My generation has always inevitably asked one another either while developing one-on-one intimacy or while sharing peanuts at a cocktail party, "where were you when Kennedy was killed?". The very idea that anyone you might talk to would remember exactly what they were doing, how they found out, and what they did, was a bonding experience in itself. How many other life experiences do we all share so singularly and powerfully? This kind of national tragedy unites us at a cellular level because no matter what we were doing, we all share a similar memory -- of devastation, sadness and shock.
The same is true for the events that occured on 9/11. Who can forget where they were when they heard the news, what they were doing, who they were with? I was remembering this with my best buddy the other day. I had just come home from early morning physical therapy. As soon as I arrived home she called me, sobbing into the phone and telling me to turn on the news. Most of us share memories of the images I next saw. Standing in front of my television, tears running down my face, I couldn't believe this had happened in our country, in New York City. The rest of the day, my law firm attempted to prepare for trial in San Franciso that was to begin in the next few days. We were torn between watching news accounts, and preparing witness binders, while all the while a dirty fog of anxiety floated around the office, enveloping us in fears over reports that major bridges might possibly be in danger of future attacks. How could we drive to 'the city' for trial without driving over either of the main bridges?
That night at home I made a nice dinner for my teenage children and talked with them about the events of the day. We prayed for all who had been impacted and I felt grateful beyond measure for my cozy little life in that moment.
Ten years later we remember the victims, the families, the rescuers and pray for peace in our world. It is painful to hang onto some emotions -- anger in our hearts, resentment, revenge. Sometimes hanging onto memories can keep us mired in a past that no longer serves us.
Today, coincidentally I am preparing a memorial service for a man that wasn't particularly close to many of the children he left behind. My job as Celebrant is to tell his story, to mine those gold nuggets, shine them until they glow and allow his family to remember with appreciation all that he was, all that they received from this man and to bask in the good memories of what he left behind.
My prayer for this man's family and for our country is that we can always remember and appreciate all that is good and wise and inspiring about those who have lost their lives, and not hold onto that bitterness within that refuses to allow space for healing. Then as a candle lights the path ahead of us, so too can we be honoring their memories and bringing them forward into the future with hope for a brighter future.
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