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The other day, Erin was telling me about how her friends in Portland don't "get" how we can still be sensitive about 9/11. She said that the phrase "Never forget" really pisses her off: "I'm like, fuck you. That's so condescending."

I tend to agree. I do have sympathy for the people-- the majority of the country-- who have "moved on". This stuff can't, and shouldn't, stay fresh for everyone forever. Time moves forward, not backwards, as wise Mr McCulloch said. Not everyone shares our perspective. But for those of us who are close, I mean physically close, who have to pass through the site twice a day on our commute, or see the empty skyline from across the river as they drive to and from work every day, it's hard. It's hard to see all the nothing that's been going on at the site, and it's hard to tune out the fact that Ground Zero has become Disneyland Northeast, America's Favorite Tourist Destination.

I have learned to largely become blind and deaf, out of necessity. I have to traverse that platform twice a day, five times a week, and if I were to get upset at every vendor hawking postcards, or every tourist shoving camera phones through the chain-link, I'd lose my shit pretty much constantly. But when I see people posing in front of the "World Trade Center" PATH sign, holding up two fingers, or making a goofy face, or just grinning broadly like they're on the boardwalk sticking their face into a wooden cutout of the Strong Man, when I let myself see that, I want to stop and scream, "Have some fucking respect!"

But it's like Mr Sondheim said in the song he wrote about the aftermath of JFK's assassination, it was just

...something to be mended
Something we'll have to weather
Bringing us all together
If only for a moment
Just an awful moment.

So, no. We won't ever forget. We try to. But we can't. I think it would be better if Gina didn't cry every time she sees old footage of the towers on tv, or if I could go to work without my blood pressure rising, or if Erin didn't have to try to explain to her Oregon friends just why "this stuff still has (her) all messed up".

It's not the same as dwelling. It's like trying to sleep in a bed you once shared with a loved one. (I'm thinking of Rosie, here.) Eventually, you get used to it. You cope. But you don't forget what it felt like to have that body next to you.

Labels: 'til it's just smoke, 'til it's just something just past, fix it up fast, nothing that will last, please

Why are you in Tavie's head? 9:41 PM | shower me with attention