Yesterday I had this brillant idea to write a travel post all about upcoming Hong Kong adventures, mile long escalators and drinks from decks with a view.
Then I remembered it’s September 11.
Should I write about that? Should I mention the way 9/11 changed me, us, the world? What if I talk about the way terrorism changed travel?
The trouble is I don’t know how to talk about it. I remember the world before 9/11. I remember watching the Twin Towers fall on a small TV as I sat shocked in a high school English classroom. I remember the fear, the discussions, the quiet hushed voices that Americans suddenly spoke in to try and understand this rip in their world.
I’m not sure if we’re better. I don’t think we’ve healed. It’s been 11 years, but it was still such a momentous event it’s nearly all we can talk about.
Even though it’s another Tuesday, it’s someone’s birthday, travelers are stuck in airports, families are moving, men and women are starting new jobs, teenagers are plotting ways to skip school because they don’t want to sit through another memorial service for a disaster they barely recall.
Perhaps were finally in that place were we can remember what happened, and we hurt, but we also haven’t forgotten to live. So this anniversary of that terrifying day, I just want to say, “Yes, it happened. It irrevocably changed my world in countless ways. But it’s time to move on, so I’m going to have a beer and pizza while discussing the election of inflection.”
Oh, and finalize plans for that Hong Kong thang. Because three hour security lines and customs aside, it’s not stopping me from seeing the world.