You cannot touch years
Though memory bears their weight
I sip my coffee
As ever on this day, I have flashes of memories–7 months pregnant about to board a flight at BWI. When the men screamed run, for fear of bombs, I ran from the terminal and jumped in the first car I saw. I am grateful for that driver’s kindness, for he drove me home to Annapolis as fast as he could. I could only think to get to my children. But as Meredith, then 9, told me when I said, “You’re safe, I’m here”–“I will never be safe again.”
Even so, we try for security, and work toward it. As Helen Keller said, “Security is mostly an illusion.” In any case, in addition to my own small memories of that day and the ensuring years, my heart goes out to all who lost lives, loved ones, and illusions, who continue to live in fear and war.
