I’m sitting on my porch, about to write some reflections about 9/11, thinking about visiting the memorial a few years ago while helping to chaperone a group of choir kids, most of whom were too young to remember the actual event.

As I begin typing, my thoughts are interrupted. “Can we pet your dog?” a man says, walking by with a young girl and a baby in a stroller. “Sure,” I say. She’s friendly and has bounded forward to greet them, as she does with literally everyone who passes by. It’s our daily delight.

Suddenly a plane flies very low overhead. Some kind of military jet? Something to do with the date? Was this supposed to happen? It’s extremely loud and looks like it’s heading right for downtown.

The man and his kids look up. My neighbor runs out to his lawn, also looking up. His very pregnant wife calls something I can’t hear from inside. It’s noon and the church nearby is chiming its usual hourly bells. Sirens somewhere not too far off are blaring. It’s breezy and the trees are waving their great arms like warnings, the wind chimes are clanging.

This is what it was like that day too, twenty years ago. All the normal sweet things are thrown into sharp relief, all the usually musical sounds are suddenly jarring. Everything is chaos, off kilter. And yet, nothing is. Was that supposed to happen? Are we ok?

Yes, we’re ok. And also, we’ve never been ok. We just keep going.

---

Consider supporting me on Patreon here while I slowly figure out how to make a more professional looking widget for this. I love you.