New York City, the intersection of Greenwich and Liberty. We’d just walked through the Twin Tower Memorial. The recessed fountains, rimmed as they are with brass – engraved with the names of the dead. Water, ever flowing. Down and down again.
Years have passed. That bitter ache no longer rises. Something of a milestone. Here of all places, I thought. Yes, time had done that thing that time does – making hard things easier. I felt it, yes – body memory moved things inside. But the intensity has faded. I wasn’t there… could count with a few fingers the number of times I’d been in the city. I knew no one who had died. Still, there was all that emotion – we all felt it, all had things to say and we said them, and said them again. Like most of us, I was nowhere near when the towers fell. Still, I, like so many others, “took it personal.”