I woke up this morning with the weight on my chest lifted. As I went through my day, absolutely nothing of consequence happened, and that is exactly as I would have it.

I never know how this day will hit me until it comes. I never expect the anxiety leading up to it, though I should at this point.

“Never forget” is a resounding charge you see and hear on this day, and while I wholeheartedly agree with the sentiment, for those of us that lived it, we would love to, at least for a day, forget. I don’t know what it’s like to view that day from afar. I read peoples’ stories about where they were when it happened, how it affected them, and how they changed.

For me, I can’t divorce that day from the smell, the dust, and the sirens. And I can’t confine it to one day, but rather months of dodging ash and feeling the rumbling beneath my feet. I mourn for those who were lost that day and for the families that still feel their absence.

Thank you for your kind words and to those people that reached out to me today. God is good, and I am grateful for you.

If you want to read my story, you can find it here.