Tara Maya's Tales

It will be forgotten. One day. We all will be, as the universe grinds on to its slow heat death over trillions and trillions of unimaginable years. It will be forgotten, as other human tragedies have been forgotten. And denied. And belittled. And shrugged away. Because we are human. Because we have to go on living. Because new generations are born who weren't there and don't know or don't care; or can bring themselves to care only if they stretch their empathy and their imagination and compassion--as we must stretch ourselves to remember and learn from and feel for the tragedies of the generations before us. It will be forgotten. But not by me. * * * You can see photos of the day here. You can also read my 9-11 ruminations from a previous year.

Last year, this was my 9-11 Post: On September 11, 2001, I was living overseas. I remember that a local newspaper carried the headline, the next day, "Superman Cries." I very much wanted to buy a copy, but I had other priorities at the time. My mom was scheduled to be on an airplane on that day, and I was trying to track her down, make sure she was safe (she was), and then I spent a lot of time on the phone or trying to get online to talk it over with her and other loved ones. By the time I tried to pick up a copy of the newspaper, they were sold out. It's interesting that at a moment like that, people would turn to a fictional character to try to make sense of the tragedy. They could have used the Statue of Liberty or Uncle Sam, the more usual allegorical figures of nationhood, but instead featured the comicbook Superman, with a single tear. * * * I included a link to this  emotional timeline of 9-11  from Mind Hacks. What I did not discuss was my own emotiona...