Why is everything at elevens?

I shouldn't be writing this now. I should sit on my duff like a good little girl and wait until September, at the sixth anniversery. But I'm writing a song for then, and I was just thinking about it, so I'm going to write the prose now.

I was not directly affected by 9-11. I never lost anyone I knew and loved; I never knew anyone who was affected by it; and I lived in Washington State. Not only were there no victims from Washington State, but my very protective parents made sure I saw no footage, no pictures--in short, what I've learned has been from my own resources, grapevine fashion (driven from desperation, because I had a need to write about it). I wasn't really affected.

But in a way, every American was--the first attack on our soil in years. And so many innocent civillians dead--though death of any kind is horrible, the thought of angry, twisted folks killing soldiers isn't so bad. But civillians...just ordinary folks living their lives, who did nothing wrong but work at a tall, beautiful building or board an airplane to California. And so we were are affected, because we are civillians. And it could happen us, if we were at the wrong place at the wrong time.

I lived through a historical moment that my grandchildren are going to be reading about in school. So someday, I wonder, will they know or wonder what was going on at that time far away? Will they care? Will they care that Grandma Cait was busy playing with paint samples with Great-Aunt Rivka when they heard the news? Is it important?

I read a book about Pearl Harbor. It was historical fiction about a girl about my age who lived in Hawaii during that time and saw some of the attacks. Heavy stuff. But it took place in Hawaii, not San Jose or Seattle or Chicago or something like that. That's because Hawaii was where the action was. San Jose, Seattle, and/or Chicago was boring. Those folks were either not awake or not bothering. Then the news came 'round, and they were all shocked.

Like it happened here. I guess a lot of peoples have drawn parallels and that's because there are parallels. My homeschool curriculum is big on "comparing and contrasting", so if I really thought and studied on it, I could probably come up with some of the biggest differences and all that. But...hm, still.

I don't know. It was a big tragedy, 9-11 was, that we haven't quite come out of yet. Friends and family still mourn. Caring people still sympathize and cry over the old stories. The New York Skyline is still missing its buck teeth. There's a big hole where once hundreds of people worked, cried, laughed, and lived normal lives. We still have security measures that would be unneccessary were it not for the horror that people seem to want to inflict on others.

I think that's what makes history. Joys and sorrows that many, many people face that are preserved for generations by their long-time healing, their effects that change--if not the world--entire cities, states, nations. And it's scary to think that, not only will I one day reminisce about the "good old days" with my cronies as we sit in the nursing home, but my children and grandchildren will be wondering what I was doing at the time that was history. Because I was alive at the time, and I have memories.

I only hope that it doesn't give them too many sleepless nights. Or nightmares. Or fear of the dark.