I could post a flag. But there are flags all over the Internet, on Twitter and Facebook profiles and more. The blogosphere doesn’t need another flag.
I could post a photo of a candle. One of my strongest memories of 9/11/01 comes from the candlelight vigil a few days later. Our entire neighborhood was lit up, high school kids carried candles with them as they walked around the block, and our neighborhood police officer played Amazing Grace on his bagpipes.
But a candle on a blog wouldn’t evoke the kind of emotion that came that night. I don’t think that’s really what I’m after on this day, ten years after our nation changed forever.
People close to me know that I’m recovering from the worst depression of my life. The key word is recovering. I’m not there yet, but I’m steadily gaining ground. It’s a marathon, not a sprint, as I’ve stated before. I can’t say I’m precisely the person I was before this illness hit so hard. I may never be exactly the same, feel exactly the same way. That’s okay. I might not remember exactly what healthy feels like, but I’ll at least be healthier.
People across the nation recovered from the shock of the 9/11 attacks. I’ve seen the word “rebounded” used in place of recovered, but our recovery as a nation wasn’t quick like a rebound. We didn’t heal immediately. Through the healing process we’ve changed. We’re more vigilant, more aware.
Another form of resiliency came about in a focus on home, on family, and on friends. That trend continues, and I hope it never stops. When it comes to healing of any kind, a strong support network is not just important; it’s essential.
Part of my healing comes in the forms of gardening and cooking and canning. It’s part of being a provider. I may have lost income while I was on sick leave last year, but I can still feed my family. My dollars go farther at the market, and we eat healthier as a result. Healing, emotionally and physically, can come in a cloth bag of fresh produce.