Sunny Bloody New York Sunday
I can’t forget the breeze against my face.
I walked up to the chain-link fence, squinted against the bright light of the sun, looked about, and then just closed my eyes.
With what felt like the most mournful rendition of Amazing Grace ever playing on a flute a few metres away from me, I felt this strong persistent wind.
Later that day I would realize what day it was - March 11th - I was standing there exactly five and a half years since the tragic day.
Who knows if I would’ve experienced the same reaction had I showed up on any other day, but when we walked up to Ground Zero the feeling was grim and chilling.
This was hallowed ground. A mass grave for the thousands of people whose bodies were crushed to dust in a couple of instants. A place of unspeakable horror used to justify an ever-escalating cycle of violence around the world.
Within moments of arriving, I walked away from the rest of my friends to stand by myself, silently storming past the memorial souvenir touts, and let the wind take over.
The following day I felt another breeze elsewhere in the city - it was a peaceful, serene moment but it brought me back to that springtime summer afternoon. It’s like there’s a piece of this place I’ll never forget.
There was a sticker on a nearby piece of equipment showing the pre-9/11 skyline with the words “We won’t forget. We won’t forgive.”
It’s honourable to remember those who gave everything and lost it all - the brave firefighters, cops, and other heroes. But forgiveness is crucial.
Without it you will let your anger over your loss gnaw at you until it consumes your sanity, or your soul.