A Different 9/11 Post

There is a teenage boy many miles from here who is going through a hard time and it doesn’t matter that I am only a phone call away.

Doesn’t matter we can Facetime, Skype or Google Hangout because to him it is not enough and I understand that.

Nor does it matter that I am certain I am doing the right thing and that moving for this job is going to have a huge impact on our family.

Doesn’t matter because even though I am convinced there is that voice inside that pokes me and asks for proof that I haven’t made life harder.

All I can do is take it one day at a time and hope that the collective lessons I have shared and the love I send out is felt.

So I sit here hoping he and his sister hear and feel me, that they have their own mental video “Mickey Loves You” going on inside their heads.

A Different 9/11 Post

I thought about writing another one of my traditional 9/11 posts.

Thought about sharing the tale about how I was supposed to be in the city that day but wasn’t.

Thought about talking about how my oldest friend had been working in the Cantor/Fitzgerald office until two days before the towers came down and how scared I was.

Thought about writing again about how I watched my son build towers out of blocks and on the television saw the towers fall.

But I didn’t feel like it this year.

Not because we shouldn’t remember or talk about it but because it needed to have a different bend to it this year.

In large part because my kids are no longer too young to know about or understand.

They talk and learn about it in school.

Any time they have been lucky enough to take a plane somewhere they have heard someone talk about how air travel isn’t what it used to be.

So this year we are doing things a little bit differently.

r8hw4zs38zo-robson-morgan

I have this fantasy  where I take the kids camping to this place with hot springs which we use every night before bed.

Under a million twinkling lights we talk about anything and everything and we leave there knowing that the world is their oyster.

Part of me smiles because it is not completely out of the question, not all of it, just part of it.

You see I know I can take us somewhere like that and I know my kids are capable of putting themselves in a position for me to say the world is their oyster.

What I can’t do is provide them with a world where war doesn’t exist and people don’t hurt each other just because they have a different race, religion, color or creed.

It is a naive position and something I don’t believe I’ll ever see in my lifetime nor do I expect it to happen ever.

My grandkids, great-grandkids and great-great-grandkids will all know some form of discord in the world.

Can’t say it will be war or violence as we know it but I can say I hope it is never to the extent or scale we have  seen it.

What I can say is I hope my kids only know about 9/11 because is the last huge event of that kind.

I can say that would be a pretty nice thing because if you look at the scale of impact of some of these horrific events it is clear that a small adjustment would have a significant impact.

Small victories lead to bigger ones and while we may not be able to eliminate war and strife, we can work towards something that hurts fewer people and that is worth something.

(Visited 74 times, 1 visits today)

Comments

Leave a comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

You may also like