September 11th, 2002

primary butterflies


I think for the rest of the evening, I'm boycotting the media, and curling up with my dog and a Clancy book.

I don't want to hear any more. It's not that I don't remember -- I do. I remember in the little things that make me happy every day: my dog going bonkers at 11:30 pm on schedule, the sun shining on my face, the opportunity to leave work early, being able to nap in the middle of the day, warm kitty purring on my lap, friends who pitch in with a smile, vanilla rum and coke, music that makes me dance or sing in the car at the top of my lungs.

I just don't want to talk about it. I don't want to hear about it, I just want to remember quietly, in my own way, and if I'm being brutally honest here, allow myself a little bit of denial. My eyes have filled up with tears too many times to count, today, just listening to the radio.

Although, at the cubs game today, the ceremony was very short, to the point, and stirring. During the 7th inning stretch, a moment of silence, and then we sang God Bless America instead of Take Me Out to the Ball Game, and that was it; it didn't consume the entire game. Of course, we got there 40 minutes late (my fault), so if they had a great deal of ceremony at the beginning, I gratefully missed it.

and one thing I want to remember about this day: my dog graduated from obedience class, and so did I. Life always does go on, and we need to remember that, too.
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