Now that 9/11 was 17 years ago, the pain and surprise of that day has somewhat faded. It'll never be gone, never. I had just turned 20 years old a few months before, and in many ways I consider the day of those attacks the turning point between childhood and adulthood. The day I realized that things don't always go according to plan. Lives don't always go according to plan.
I remember thinking for a long time that it would be terrible to have a birthday on 9/11. I wonder if that is the case anymore. For a kid born today, right this instant, 9/11 will be just another world event that their parents lived through. The way I consider Vietnam, perhaps. Paul himself was born on Pearl Harbor Day. When we talked about it last night, we called December 7 the 9/11 of the Greatest Generation.
And so we look at the same events through different lenses. What will be the defining event of our children's lives? If it's the 9/11 of the coming generation, I hope we don't find out for a long time.
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