9/11: Eighteen Years Later

Eighteen years later and I still don’t know what to do or think or feel or say. Is hope all that’s left?


Sigh…
I don’t know what to write.

With each passing year, I hope against the odds that I’ll have positive words to express our nation’s growth toward healing.

With each passing year, someone tears off the bandage and picks at the scab, infecting the wound deeper and deeper.

When will it end?

Will it end?

I’m frustrated by the frustration I feel on each anniversary.

Is there hope?

Will we ever come together again?

Will we rise above it all and be well again?

Is hope all we have?

Is hope enough?

Should I keep hoping?

Whether I should or not, I will … because I have to.

“Imagine all the people, sharing all the world.”

Maybe we’ll be better next year.

Love.
Hugs.
Peace.


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