Every year, a day or two before Patriots’ Day, “The Healing Field” rises from the ground at the Tempe Beach Park. I have visited it for the last two years.
This year, I had my young niece and nephew with me, and was touched that they were both aware, at a level appropriate for their ages, of the 9.11 tragedy. As we strolled through the sea of flags, we looked at some of the photo tags that were attached to each one; they were especially anxious to find flags with stuffed animals attached to them, as those were in remembrance of children who lost their lives.
My 6 year old nephew is tall enough to reach the photo tags, and he looked at each one of them as he found a flag that stood in memory of a child. I’m not sure why I didn’t take any pictures of any of the children’s photo tags, but I did take a few shots of the tags of adults.
It’s hard to believe that it’s been 7 years. As I’m sure everyone does, I remember where I was the morning of 9.11. I’d fractured my foot a few days prior and I was in bed … and in pain … with nothing to do but watch television. My sister-in-law called me in the morning to alert of me of the situation, so I turned on the TV and then due to my housebound and mostly-bedridden circumstances, I watched … and I watched … and I watched. I remember the sadness I felt for those who lost their lives so unfairly. I remember the anger I felt at those who caused this tragedy of unbelievable proportions. And, I remember the eerie silence of the skies over my condo, which is usually in the path of incoming airplanes at the Phoenix airport which is only 2 miles away.
I’m proud to be an American. I know I am extremely blessed to have been born into a family that lives in The United States of America. I am ever-grateful for those in uniform who fight and risk their lives every day to keep this country safe.
May we never, never again know the heartbreak of 9.11.
Filed under: Family, Tempe, Tempe Beach Park, patriotism
