A year past...

~Sept. 11, 2002~

It's been a year since the world seemed to stand still for days on end, all eyes locked on New York and D.C. A year since things changed forever. A year since I recieved two phone calls, neither of which sunk in, and were believed until later during the day. A year since The passing of a friend.

And what do we have to show for it? More violence. More hatred. More fear. More blood.

There are going to be many "specials" on today concerning what has happened in the last year, but I think they all miss the point. Yes, we've survived, both as a nation and as individuals, but at what cost? Why do we keep focusing on those that died, and what surrounded their deaths rather than what surrounded their lives?

Would all those that were taken want their friends, families, loved ones, neighbors, and countrymen to spend a year grieving in the way we have? Some would. Some would want it to last forever, I'm sure. But I think there were more that would have wanted us to live life as the precious and inpermanent gift that it is.

My friend Ed would have wanted a party thrown for him, and have people laughing. Not crying. Not grieving forever. He loved life too much for that.

How am I going to remember him today? By playing with my boys. By hugging my friends. By petting my cat. By taking a moment, thanking him for all he did for me while we were together, raising a glass to him, than letting him go. He'll always be with me, as long as I live.

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