I'm a crier. I cry when I'm sad. I cry when other people are sad. I cry when I'm happy. I cry when other people are happy. I cry to almost any montage put to music. Seriously, you could make a slide show of peoples feet , slap a sad song up as background music and I'd cry.
I cry every year on September 11th.
Except this year, I didn't cry.
I watched "The Day the Towers Fell" and didn't shed a single tear. I felt guilty for not crying. This is the day that should always make me cry, because the loss was so huge. The pain of what happened to thousands of people that day is so tragic and senseless. It scared me to think I had become to hardened that the images flashing before my eyes no longer had an impact on my black, dead soul.
Then, just a few minutes ago, I read this post. And the tears welled up within me and by the time I got to the middle of the post, I could no longer hold back the tears. I finally cried. And I continue to cry because there are THOUSANDS of stories just like that out there. Friends lost. Husbands lost. Sisters, Mothers, Fathers, Brothers, Cousins lost.
And for what? Why? I still can't fully wrap my mind around what happened that day.
I'm so grateful that people continue to tell their personal experiences of that day. I don't want to ever forget and I don't ever want to become so callous and distant from it that I don't pause to mourn the loss of those beloved souls on that day 7 years ago.







Yeah, that post made me cry too.