The Next Day: A Reflection
On the eve of September 11th, my husband asked if I had planned any activities with the kids. I hadn't thought of doing anything specific. But when I woke up the next morning to a bright sun and blue sky, similar to that morning 11 years ago, I decided to take my husband's suggestion and do something with the kids that would hopefully leave a little impression. That something was a visit to the Veteran's Memorial in our town.
I had tried to prep the kids with a simple explanation of why September 11th was important to us in America. But my four-year-old is pretty inquisitive, and her questions are not of the simple variety, especially when it comes to things involving death or senseless evil. She knows that Mommy and Daddy used to be good soldiers in the Army, and that lots of our friends are good soldiers who are trying to put bad soldiers in jail right now. But we’d never really explained the connection to the events of 9/11. Her shock that that some “mean men” would want to crash planes and hurt so many people led to questions about the current war Afghanistan, and the questions kept coming:
"Mommy, so are the good soldiers finding all the bad ones in 'Afghanamtan' and did they put them in jail right now? They should!"
"Well, they're trying. But it's dangerous and the good soldiers get hurt a lot. It's called a war. They're fighting a war."
"Well, I wish they wouldn't do that, Mommy! They should be nice to each other and love each other. I want them to all be good soldiers!"
"Me too, Sweetie. Me too."
"Mommy?" [Pause]. "Mommy, will they always have to be there fighting that war?"
"I sure hope not, Sweetie. We need to keep praying that they can all come home very, very soon."
"Okay, Mommy. We will pray for the good soldiers to come home. And for the bad ones to turn good!"
I smiled wanly at her innocence and told her it was time to get ready to go. So we put on our "America" clothes and went the memorial, which is a beautiful path with a series of individual walls bearing the names of veterans from the area. In the middle of these is a quiet area with a separate monument, its inscription detailing the brave acts of one soldier as well as the names of a few others. It was touching to see the kids go straight up to the inscription, get as close as possible, and point to the different words and names and ask questions about them. We said a short prayer for all the victims, for all the families, for all the good soldiers and bad soldiers, and then went on our way. (After all, I'd promised a trip to the playground at the park, too).
But my wheels had only just begun to turn. As I digested our conversation, her comment presuming that enemies could love each other kept stopping me in my tracks. If only it were so simple--making the 'bad' in the world 'good' with a little love. Sadly impossible, though.
But I woke up the next day with my little girl’s comments still weighing on my mind. Weighing even more heavily on my heart was the knowledge that the rest of the world had put away the red, white, and blue and returned to their normal lives. I tried some "writing therapy" as I like to call it, but was met with writer’s block instead. But a welcome email from my fabulous friend Elizabeth kicked things into gear—my fabulous friend, I might add, who is in the mountains of Afghanistan right now fighting for our freedom. I’d like to share a bit of what she had to say:
We had a 9/11 ceremony last night and I always get choked up at those things. I struggle with a lot of things- yesterday it was the fact that yes, people remember 9/11 because it was a momentous day in our history. But then the next day, september 12th, they go back to forgetting that we still have Soldiers overseas fighting for the very people that died on that day. We don't live it 1 day a year, or 2 days a year (4th of July) or 3 days a year (Veterans day)... we live it daily... and sometimes it's frustrating. At the same time, can I blame them? We've been at war for nearly 11 years now and they don't see the progress we make- shoot, half of the population doesn't even understand why we went to war in the first place... September 11th is such a bittersweet day for me- -sweet in the sense that it's humbling to see an entire nation come together to remember those that perished, bitter because half of them aren't even truly aware of what we're fighting for…
I jumped on these words because they so perfectly expressed the thoughts I’d been struggling to voice, the message that I’d tried to write so many times but couldn't seem to pin down. I love that America has days where we can reflect. Days when others who live in their war-less bubble might stop and remember all the victims and the war-weary halfway across the world. But those days aren’t enough. Because it’s not over after Memorial Day or Veterans Day or the Anniversary of 9/11. I wish it were over. I wish all my friends were home so I didn’t have to pray every night that they would make it home safely. I wish I didn’t have so many friends who never did make it home. I pray that no one else dear to me has to join the ranks of the fallen, even though I know deep down that it’s probably just a matter of time. And though I may not know them, every day someone does join those ranks—someone who is so dear to many, many others. So when the world carries on the next day it tends to hit me like a slap across the face every time. I can only imagine what it feels like for those more deeply affected than I.
But I think in all the times I’ve tried to put words to these emotions, I’ve missed something critical. I’ve missed the why. Why is it that remembrance is so important? Why is it that when we do remember, we are so grieved and angered by each loss?
It is simple; it is because we understand that person’s true worth. We understand that their life had meaning, so much meaning, and was cut tragically short by some evil in the world that we want to stop but cannot define. No matter who they are, we know this to be true.
But in comprehending one truth, I am met with another. We all have inherent worth, every last one of us. Even those on the other side. And we only add fuel to the fire of endless evil when we, in anger, disregard the worth of another. I know that lots of bad things happen in this world. I know that often someone causes it. On purpose. Is it any wonder we react in anger? In the past few days I've seen so many inciting comments regarding the horrific loss of our ambassador in Libya that I've lost count. But when it comes to honoring the fallen, anger and hatred cannot heal our world any more than it can increase the worth of our loved ones; it just diminishes the inherent worth of those we're angry with. This may not seem like a big deal. Especially when it's other side's fault. Especially when they're reacting with the anger that is the same--or worse. But my kids provide a prime example of how it doesn't solve anything. If my feisty toddler hits his sister, he is wrong. But if she hits him back, or throws a rock at his head (true story), or screams in his face, she's just as wrong. Neither is any better off, and both emerge with cuts or bruises or scars and more anger. So it is with the world. It's not solely the tragic acts, it's the anger and hatred leading to more anger and hatred that do the true long-term damage to our world.
I felt this profoundly when I heard the news of Osama Bin Laden's death. When others cheered and paraded in the streets, I could not celebrate with them. The only way to describe my reaction was that I was deeply, deeply troubled. Like I got kicked in the gut and had the wind knocked out of me. It was similar to the feeling that shrouded me each time I discovered that another friend had been injured or killed, although no tears flowed with this news. I recognized that he was the man who caused so much evil, he was a big reason that so many of my friends were killed, and by our standards he deserved to experience everything he’d inflicted and then some. But deep, deep down, I also knew he was still undeniably human. Still had some semblance of worth. Still had family who relied on him. And though I could be glad that an organization whose goal is sheer terror, sheer evil, was a little bit less powerful, my heart could find no joy in his death. My conscience could not call it a victory. And I ached more than ever for our world.
Why do I bring this up? I realize my reaction holds a key to that same lesson. Death begets death. Selfishness, power, anger, and division will only beget more war. Rejoicing in the murder of a man whose evil deeds have brought us to our knees will only hasten the rise of another. If, after all we have been through, we look across the self-concocted boundaries we’ve created in our world called countries and only lay bricks to heighten the barrier, we have lost. If we still fail to recognize the inherent worth and dignity in those on the other side, even those who have wronged us, we will keep losing. If we only choose to remember a few days a year, we have dishonored those whose worth we claim is most important. And even in the wake of a tragedy such as 9/11--even in the throes of passionate nationalism when we come together as a country in perfect unity—if, even after coming face to face with the wretchedness of such hurt and destruction, we focus our energy on wishing the same on others, while forgetting so quickly the memory of those who really matter, then we will never see peace. Never.
But in my heart of hearts I believe there's got to be a way to curb the hatred the fuels these evils. A way to redefine September 11th, not just as a day of remembrance, but of forgiveness. A way to reorder our priorities so that the headlining news is not that the new iPhone model was released, but of loved ones with incredible worth who have been lost, whose own loved ones need our support now more than ever as the evils drag on under the radar. There must be a way to ignite such a passion for love and goodness and worth in our short-sighted country that we who care so very much on September 11th will care just as much on September 12th and September 13th and today and every day beyond. It's about remembrance, yes. But not just remembrance. It's also about goodness. It's also about love. It's about forgiveness. It's about individual worth. Not just on our side, but on all sides.
How do we achieve that impossibility? I haven't a clue. I don’t know how to make terrorists want to give us hugs instead of blow us up. I don’t know how to make the Middle East stop rioting in anger because of an offensive movie. I don't know how to stop Americans from behaving the same way as they respond in hatred and anger to the news of our ambassador who was tragically killed. But I know that without planting even the tiniest seed of love in the midst of all these evils, we will never have a chance. And like every great change, I where we should probably start--from within. I know that with every prejudice we confront, with every evil we acknowledge, with every response of love in place of anger, we will be one tiny step closer. Every thought, every prayer, has the ability to reclaim dignity and worth. Maybe if we try to keep caring as much today as we did yesterday, each 'next day' will blend into a future with a little more hope, where our world is a little better off. Maybe we will get a little taste of peace and want more. And maybe, just maybe, it’s not completely impossible for the bad soldiers to turn good, for enemies to love each other, for our loved ones to live on, and for each next day to be just as meaningful as the last.
What do you think?
Is world-wide unity impossible? Is there anything else we can do to get a step closer? Care to share any ways you remember loved ones?
Post a comment below and join the conversation...
I had tried to prep the kids with a simple explanation of why September 11th was important to us in America. But my four-year-old is pretty inquisitive, and her questions are not of the simple variety, especially when it comes to things involving death or senseless evil. She knows that Mommy and Daddy used to be good soldiers in the Army, and that lots of our friends are good soldiers who are trying to put bad soldiers in jail right now. But we’d never really explained the connection to the events of 9/11. Her shock that that some “mean men” would want to crash planes and hurt so many people led to questions about the current war Afghanistan, and the questions kept coming:
"Mommy, so are the good soldiers finding all the bad ones in 'Afghanamtan' and did they put them in jail right now? They should!"
"Well, they're trying. But it's dangerous and the good soldiers get hurt a lot. It's called a war. They're fighting a war."
"Well, I wish they wouldn't do that, Mommy! They should be nice to each other and love each other. I want them to all be good soldiers!"
"Me too, Sweetie. Me too."
"Mommy?" [Pause]. "Mommy, will they always have to be there fighting that war?"
"I sure hope not, Sweetie. We need to keep praying that they can all come home very, very soon."
"Okay, Mommy. We will pray for the good soldiers to come home. And for the bad ones to turn good!"
I smiled wanly at her innocence and told her it was time to get ready to go. So we put on our "America" clothes and went the memorial, which is a beautiful path with a series of individual walls bearing the names of veterans from the area. In the middle of these is a quiet area with a separate monument, its inscription detailing the brave acts of one soldier as well as the names of a few others. It was touching to see the kids go straight up to the inscription, get as close as possible, and point to the different words and names and ask questions about them. We said a short prayer for all the victims, for all the families, for all the good soldiers and bad soldiers, and then went on our way. (After all, I'd promised a trip to the playground at the park, too).
But my wheels had only just begun to turn. As I digested our conversation, her comment presuming that enemies could love each other kept stopping me in my tracks. If only it were so simple--making the 'bad' in the world 'good' with a little love. Sadly impossible, though.
But I woke up the next day with my little girl’s comments still weighing on my mind. Weighing even more heavily on my heart was the knowledge that the rest of the world had put away the red, white, and blue and returned to their normal lives. I tried some "writing therapy" as I like to call it, but was met with writer’s block instead. But a welcome email from my fabulous friend Elizabeth kicked things into gear—my fabulous friend, I might add, who is in the mountains of Afghanistan right now fighting for our freedom. I’d like to share a bit of what she had to say:
We had a 9/11 ceremony last night and I always get choked up at those things. I struggle with a lot of things- yesterday it was the fact that yes, people remember 9/11 because it was a momentous day in our history. But then the next day, september 12th, they go back to forgetting that we still have Soldiers overseas fighting for the very people that died on that day. We don't live it 1 day a year, or 2 days a year (4th of July) or 3 days a year (Veterans day)... we live it daily... and sometimes it's frustrating. At the same time, can I blame them? We've been at war for nearly 11 years now and they don't see the progress we make- shoot, half of the population doesn't even understand why we went to war in the first place... September 11th is such a bittersweet day for me- -sweet in the sense that it's humbling to see an entire nation come together to remember those that perished, bitter because half of them aren't even truly aware of what we're fighting for…
I jumped on these words because they so perfectly expressed the thoughts I’d been struggling to voice, the message that I’d tried to write so many times but couldn't seem to pin down. I love that America has days where we can reflect. Days when others who live in their war-less bubble might stop and remember all the victims and the war-weary halfway across the world. But those days aren’t enough. Because it’s not over after Memorial Day or Veterans Day or the Anniversary of 9/11. I wish it were over. I wish all my friends were home so I didn’t have to pray every night that they would make it home safely. I wish I didn’t have so many friends who never did make it home. I pray that no one else dear to me has to join the ranks of the fallen, even though I know deep down that it’s probably just a matter of time. And though I may not know them, every day someone does join those ranks—someone who is so dear to many, many others. So when the world carries on the next day it tends to hit me like a slap across the face every time. I can only imagine what it feels like for those more deeply affected than I.
But I think in all the times I’ve tried to put words to these emotions, I’ve missed something critical. I’ve missed the why. Why is it that remembrance is so important? Why is it that when we do remember, we are so grieved and angered by each loss?
It is simple; it is because we understand that person’s true worth. We understand that their life had meaning, so much meaning, and was cut tragically short by some evil in the world that we want to stop but cannot define. No matter who they are, we know this to be true.
I felt this profoundly when I heard the news of Osama Bin Laden's death. When others cheered and paraded in the streets, I could not celebrate with them. The only way to describe my reaction was that I was deeply, deeply troubled. Like I got kicked in the gut and had the wind knocked out of me. It was similar to the feeling that shrouded me each time I discovered that another friend had been injured or killed, although no tears flowed with this news. I recognized that he was the man who caused so much evil, he was a big reason that so many of my friends were killed, and by our standards he deserved to experience everything he’d inflicted and then some. But deep, deep down, I also knew he was still undeniably human. Still had some semblance of worth. Still had family who relied on him. And though I could be glad that an organization whose goal is sheer terror, sheer evil, was a little bit less powerful, my heart could find no joy in his death. My conscience could not call it a victory. And I ached more than ever for our world.
Why do I bring this up? I realize my reaction holds a key to that same lesson. Death begets death. Selfishness, power, anger, and division will only beget more war. Rejoicing in the murder of a man whose evil deeds have brought us to our knees will only hasten the rise of another. If, after all we have been through, we look across the self-concocted boundaries we’ve created in our world called countries and only lay bricks to heighten the barrier, we have lost. If we still fail to recognize the inherent worth and dignity in those on the other side, even those who have wronged us, we will keep losing. If we only choose to remember a few days a year, we have dishonored those whose worth we claim is most important. And even in the wake of a tragedy such as 9/11--even in the throes of passionate nationalism when we come together as a country in perfect unity—if, even after coming face to face with the wretchedness of such hurt and destruction, we focus our energy on wishing the same on others, while forgetting so quickly the memory of those who really matter, then we will never see peace. Never.
But in my heart of hearts I believe there's got to be a way to curb the hatred the fuels these evils. A way to redefine September 11th, not just as a day of remembrance, but of forgiveness. A way to reorder our priorities so that the headlining news is not that the new iPhone model was released, but of loved ones with incredible worth who have been lost, whose own loved ones need our support now more than ever as the evils drag on under the radar. There must be a way to ignite such a passion for love and goodness and worth in our short-sighted country that we who care so very much on September 11th will care just as much on September 12th and September 13th and today and every day beyond. It's about remembrance, yes. But not just remembrance. It's also about goodness. It's also about love. It's about forgiveness. It's about individual worth. Not just on our side, but on all sides.
How do we achieve that impossibility? I haven't a clue. I don’t know how to make terrorists want to give us hugs instead of blow us up. I don’t know how to make the Middle East stop rioting in anger because of an offensive movie. I don't know how to stop Americans from behaving the same way as they respond in hatred and anger to the news of our ambassador who was tragically killed. But I know that without planting even the tiniest seed of love in the midst of all these evils, we will never have a chance. And like every great change, I where we should probably start--from within. I know that with every prejudice we confront, with every evil we acknowledge, with every response of love in place of anger, we will be one tiny step closer. Every thought, every prayer, has the ability to reclaim dignity and worth. Maybe if we try to keep caring as much today as we did yesterday, each 'next day' will blend into a future with a little more hope, where our world is a little better off. Maybe we will get a little taste of peace and want more. And maybe, just maybe, it’s not completely impossible for the bad soldiers to turn good, for enemies to love each other, for our loved ones to live on, and for each next day to be just as meaningful as the last.
What do you think?
Is world-wide unity impossible? Is there anything else we can do to get a step closer? Care to share any ways you remember loved ones?
Post a comment below and join the conversation...
I had a lot of these same sentiments with the day(s) after September 11th. I felt like this anniversary hit me harder because we heard so very little about it, it was here, and then it was gone and I felt like the majority of posts or things I saw about it were from people associated with the military who still have a strong emotional connection to what is going on in Afghanistan and with our Soldiers.
ReplyDeleteIs world wide unity possible? I wish. But sadly I don't think so. I wish that the Muslim community would stand firm behind their teachings and beliefs that violence is NOT the way. No where in the Koran does it encourage behavior like what was seen in Libya or Yemen. I wish that the high ranking Muslim leaders of the church and governments would say "this is not us, this is not what we believe in" and that the Muslim community would not tolerate that behavior. Do they? Maybe. Maybe I just don't see it. But clearly it's not working. But that goes for Christian extremists as well and anyone who thinks that violence and hatred are the answers to these problems.
Sometimes I feel like the only way to get our society back on track with the war and caring deeply about our Soldiers is to re-institute the draft. Too many people just don't care. They aren't affected and it doesn't impact them. But there was a time when the wars of this country did impact every last one of us. And I think national unity and pride was much higher then. I just wish there was a way for people to be impacted, even in the slightest, and then maybe, they would start caring more.
Great post Meg. As always.
Thanks, Caroline. I agree, it would take something completely radical to bring many Americans back to 'reality.' I guess our little cocoon of "peace" and selfishness is just too attractive.
DeleteAnd yes, it seems like there would (should) be a louder voice from the leaders of those religions who do not endorse the violence. Interestingly, just after I read your comment I read the following headline: "Pope to Middle Eastern Christians: 'Do not be afraid. Respond with forgiveness and not revenge.'" It also said he met with the Christian president of Lebanon and several Muslim leaders. So maybe it is happening, and like you said, we're just not seeing it? But if so, the message is clearly not loud enough for the rest of the world...
There are a lot of big thoughts in here, and I don't know if I can really respond to them all. But I will say that I was also sad when Osama bin Laden was killed. I don't know if there was a better solution, but I do know that it's never a good thing to have to take the life of another person. Even a just war is bad, even if it must be fought and the other options would be worse.
ReplyDelete"Even a just war is bad, even if it must be fought and the other options would be worse."
ReplyDeleteYes and yes. Very well said, CM.