The Anniversary

Eleven years. The passage of time hasn't numbed the pain, or my awareness of how it altered my life and my perspective. And how it hasn't.

This morning I woke alone--as I did then--at the lake cottage instead of the Lodge. The Chap is safely and securely at home, not on a business trip and isn't cut off from me by closed airports and airspace. We'll be together again in a matter of hours.

And again, it's a typical September 11th--the identical "severe clear"--cloudless blue sky, bright sunshine--that I remember so well. How could something so dreadful, so unimaginable, happen on such a beautiful, pristine day?

This year the anniversary falls on Primary Day and later I will visit my voting place. There's a comfort in being able to exert the freedoms I still enjoy as a citizen of my country on this day of remembrance and reflection.

Now as then, I appreciate the comfort provided by the presence of dogs. As we folllowed our usual route this morning along the tree-lined road, they were contented, unaffected by events past or present, trotting along, interested only in the next peculiar scent on the ground, or squirrel leaping from tree to tree.

The rest of this day will be full and busy, so I'm grateful for this quiet morning solitude. It feels much calmer and pleasanter than it did eleven years ago. But sad, too.