Last year on this date, I learned that my daughter didn’t remember 9/11. What was more upsetting at the time was how she didn’t believe me when I showed her what I viewed as evidence of a great tragedy. Since then, we’ve referred to it more often, and in November of 2007, we took a trip to New York and stood at Ground Zero with our daughter, who now believes, although, like most of us, cannot accept what happened that day.
Reflecting upon our conversation a year ago, and the events since that day, and the way our daughter has grown up so much in the last year, I understand now why she questioned it. I understand why she couldn’t allow that possibility into her safe and protected universe. I get why it took months for her to wrap her mind around it, and a trip to gaze at what is, essentially the burial ground for so many who died that day in New York City.
I get it.