It's ultimately inevitable to have almost everyone pitch in a little text, heartfelt words and plenty of sorrow and sadness when September 11 comes around every year. Admittedly, the words and texts don't vary all that much, but we all have a different version and different approaches to the overwhelming grief that lingers 11 years later. I find it extremely peculiar how I remember exactly what I was doing as the attacks commenced, given the fact I was a few months shy of my 7th birthday. I was playing in my Nana's living room when, at approximately 2pm, we started getting coverage of the attacks on national TV. We heard loud bangs, piercing screams and me, Nana and Papa were glued to the broadcast.
On this day, I feel a particular heaviness and tightness in my chest, an overpowering sadness for all that was lost, for the fallen who got taken away far too soon, for the heroes we later discovered. The promise of a new day never came for those who lost their lives; but the comfort of knowing the whole world mourns their death is of some small solace.
I will never forget this day, I'll keep all the fallen heroes in my heart for as long as I shall live and I'll be thankful for the promise of a rising sun.
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