9/11 in New York

Today marks my second September 11th living in New York. Just like last year, I awoke this morning to the skies painted red, white, and blue, buildings decorated in Never Forget signs, and rows of flowers upon each sidewalk in the city...

Except that none of that is true. If you never stopped to check social media or the news, you could easily go the entire day without a clue that this day is supposed to sting more than others. The reality is that just like it did a year ago, today feels normal.

The sense of normality isn’t developed out of a lack of compassion, but rather a collective attitude and understanding. No one I know who lost a loved on 9/11 tries to cram their sadness into one day a year. It was an atrocity - people lost siblings, parents, friends, and everything in between. The loss that took place that day isn’t felt exclusively on the anniversary of 9/11, it’s felt every day of every year. Today’s date serves merely as an anchor on a calendar indicating how long it’s been, not a once-a-year reminder to grieve.

This idea permeates throughout the city - there are always subtle tributes to be seen and mainstays in the city that remind you of that day. It’s as easy to remember 9/11 on a random Wednesday in February as it is on this particular Tuesday in September. Heck, it’s hard not for me to think of it every morning when I hop on a World Trade Center-bound E Train. “Never Forget” isn’t some politicized slogan here, it’s an honest belief and way of life that is ingrained in the fabric of New York.

I say all of this out of observation more than anything, but I guess my main takeaway from this is that if you know someone affected by this tragedy (or most others for that matter), show them the same love and support on that random Wednesday in February that you do today – this is about much more than one day.