That’s my daughter.
It’s weird, the things memory can do. What it decides to hold on to and what it chooses to leave behind. How you can try to hold on so tightly to the memories you want to keep, only to find them fading like old Polaroids, while the ones you would rather forget are kept in HD. How your mind can hang on so tightly to things. How just the sight of a date on a phone screen can make it feel like you’ve just stepped in icy water.
I was in third grade on September 11, 2001. I remember (or think I remember) exactly what I was wearing. I remember how perfect that morning was, a big yellow sun and a clear blue sky. The kind of day that makes you think nothing bad could ever happen.
And I remember the sight of a television screen reflecting back that bright blue…
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