Spent the weekend with friends in Boston again. It’ll probably be my last trip up there for awhile (sorry guys!). It’s already getting cooler and God knows there’s not enough money in the world to get me up there during the winter. Made that mistake once and my eyelids were literally frozen trying to walk around in the snow and be a tourist.
After a whirlwind crazy weekend, it was certainly somber to wake up Sunday morning and watch parts of the memorial on TV. Everyone sharing their stories of where they were on that day – all of us naive 8th graders at the time who didn’t even really understand what the twin towers or Pentagon were. I remember walking to Latin class when one of my friends ran up to me in the hallway in a panic saying a plane had hit the Pentagon and having no idea what that meant, but knowing from the look on her face that something terrible had just happened. With so many kids’ parents working in DC, there were lots of tears. I’ve often wondered why they kept us at school that day rather than sending us home to be with family, but I guess that would’ve caused even more panic and mayhem to organize.
There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heaven:
a time to be born and a time to die, a time to plant and a time to uproot,
a time to kill and a time to heal, a time to tear down and a time to build,
a time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance,
a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them, a time to embrace and a time to refrain,
a time to search and a time to give up, a time to keep and a time to throw away,
a time to tear and a time to mend, a time to be silent and a time to speak,
a time to love and a time to hate, a time for war and a time for peace.
– Ecclesiastes 3:1-9
While sailing on Sunday, we could hear the music from a nearby memorial service. Its hard to believe 10 years have passed. On a day when we reflect on the uncertainties of life and how short it can be, I’m glad I spent it with close friends.