After the game, I watched the History Channel program on the building of the new World Trade Center and the memorials. I felt a documentary better suited my mood. I shed a few tears when the architect spoke of his vision with the water falls built in the footprints of the twin towers.
Today I skipped around a few channels, landing always on a news station where the memorial was being broadcast in the background, but news anchors were front and center putting their own and personal spin on the memorial. I switched around for a more solemn station and found one where nobody was speaking, except the family members reading names. I began to cry at the sheer enormity of souls lost, the palpable grief of their survivors and the circumstances of that fateful day. As names were read, they were also displayed with their ages next to them and sometimes a photograph. As it did this day ten years ago, the utter meaninglessness of their deaths and the youthfulness of those lost shocked me. As I listened to their names, the sentiments of those reading them and watched water fall down the walls of the monuments into the deep abyss of the fountains, I felt grief anew.
I don't personally know a soul who was murdered on that day, but I know a part of my heart was broken for them none the less. I hope and I pray that their loved ones have found peace and clarity in the years that have passed us by.
It seems I need to plan a trip to New York sometime soon. I simply have to see this sacred site with my own eyes.
I wish you all peace on this very solemn day.