I Don’t Remember, but I Will Never Forget

There are so many things I could say to start this off. Maybe words can never do it justice. All I know is that today millions of Americans are grieving the loss of nearly three thousand lives fourteen years ago. There’s no nice way to put it or something gentle that could soften the heartache when the truth is painful and tear-jerking.

At the time of the 9/11 attacks, I wasn’t even two years old. My parents may have watched the news that day, but I was far too young to understand. And I suppose that while adults go on about how they remember, kids my age and younger, well, we don’t. And yet the attacks affected me so deeply. They play a part in the story of my brother’s birth, which came a few weeks later and complicated the situation with my grandparents because the airports were all closed. I know of family friends who were there that day. I’ve read about it in history and will be impacted by the events for years and years.

For generations to come, we will say that We Remember. We may not have been there on that day, but it left a mark on this world. So even those who don’t remember can say they will never forget.

Nearly 3,000 people died that day. Let that sink in. 3,000 people. Dead. And in our cynical world today, we still seem to forget the value of human life.

3,000 people.

Count to three thousand. I dare you to. Count to three thousand and see just how many lives were lost.

3,000 people.

How many had black skin or white? Do you honestly care?! If you do, get off my page now. Three thousand. That’s tragic no matter the color of their skin.

3,000 people.

Do you seriously care about their looks, about colors, about sins or saintliness, about their wealth or privilege or lack thereof, about their sex, about their clothing, or about any of these other worthless things of life?

3,000 people.

They were human lives. The people you see and speak to now are human beings with souls and hearts and feelings and worth.

Out of those 3,000 people, how many believed in Jesus? That’s the only thing I care about. Their souls are worth more than their skin color or their sex or their standing in life. No one should care about those things, in death or life. All we should care about is their relationship with a loving Savior who transcends all these things.

All these “movements,” all these protests, all these riots . . . and we’re only wasting lives, not saving them. Let God’s moving peace be the thing the brings people together and truly offers hope and justice and love for all those who never got it. Oh, Lord, show them Your love!

3,000 people died.

Each one had a family and friends. Each one was loved dearly by a number of people–people that were left behind to grieve.

3,000 people died.

I bet you don’t even know that many people. I bet that for a majority of us, that goes far and above the number of people we’ll be close to in our entire lifetime.

3,000 innocent people died.

I don’t care who they were. I don’t care what they were. All I know is that they were beautiful human beings with souls and hearts and love and reasons to live.

No one cares about the ratio of Latinos to Asians to Caucasians to African Americans. No one cares about the balance of males and females. No one cares about the number written their paycheck. What we do care about is the fact that people died.

I was too young to fully comprehend the 9/11 attacks. It was many years before I understood death at all (not until the passing of Billy Mays, I believe). Still, I will never forget the impact  9/11 has had on our society. On these days, I am proud to be an American. I am so incredibly moved by the stories of the heroes who went in to rescue people and all the lives that were saved because of that.

My thoughts and prayers are with the family and friends of those who died fourteen years ago; time does not heal all wounds.

Let us remind ourselves today of why exactly we grieve; let us remember the value of a human life, no matter the race, sex, or anything else. A life is a life–no exceptions.

And I will use this as a time to thank all the brave men and women who serve our country, whether they be soldiers in the army, firefighters rescuing people, or policemen protecting and serving the innocent. You are all heroes, and I can never thank you enough for what you’ve done. Some may turn against you, but I and many others stand by you, supporting your bravery and graciously thanking you for everything you’ve done for us. Thank you for risking your lives to save others. Thank you.

It may be that I–and many others–cannot remember 9/11. Nonetheless, with the impact it’s made on our lives, you can be sure that we will never forget.


2 thoughts on “I Don’t Remember, but I Will Never Forget

  1. I was three when that happened. All I could remember back then was the footage of the two planes crashing. It really will be etched into all of us–even those who don’t remember.


  2. Amen 😢 We had to watch a video on this in school and a lot of girls started crying. This has always fascinated me, but I’d never seen some of that footage.

    I was barely five months old. My mom worked for the airlines, and had actually helped people make reservations on those flights. My dad came and woke her up just after the first plane hit, and they skipped work and just watched the rest.

    It’s such a freaking sad thing. Absolutely horrifying. I think it makes it even sadder that everyone has a story, whether they actually lost someone or were just horrified watching the plane go into those buildings.

    Beautiful post. 💔


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