We are days away from the 10th anniversary of 9/11 and memories of grief hang in the air, like the fog that clouds many of my mornings here at the edge of the ocean. The events of that day gave us permission to grieve, openly and communally. We grieved the lives lost at that time and I believe, we cracked the door open to any grief we’d tucked away inside. Permission was granted to cry in public, to be incredibly kind to each other, to step out of the dailiness of our lives into an altered reality – one where we were, en masse, confronted with the fragility of our existence.
In the doctor’s office yesterday I picked up the latest People Magazine with the profiles of children who were born after their fathers died. I smiled at their stories and ached for their pain. I know several people who were born into grieving families and it impacted them deeply and in many ways beautifully. I appreciated that the 9/11 widows had all found love again and a few mentioned being happier than ever before. Some have criticized them for moving on, but that is life. The dead do not want us to stop living because they did.
One of the most beautiful rememberings of that time (and other times) is happening in Pema Teeter’s Memory to Light series. Every day from August 11 to September 11, she is writing about grief, about memory, about life. It is stunning. Her words are breathtaking and heart-opening. Every time I visit, I sit in awe of her. Join her where she is now, or start at the beginning. I promise it will be worth your time.