#nearlyforgotten

It's nearly September eleventh.

9/11.

An observance meant to remember the fallen, honor the heroes and appreciate these (so-called) United States.

Friday marks 25 years since that fateful day when we watched in horror...

And then came together.

Patriot’s Day, it's called.

But what does that really mean? Seems even the word "patriot" was hijacked... years ago.

Just like those planes were.

(But that's another post for another day.)

I remember watching the chilling events unfold in real time: a plane crashing into the World Trade Center, then minutes later another, buildings being engulfed in flames, emergency responders rushing in as people fled/fell/leapt from the inferno. Then came the reports of other hijacked planes... and the first of the twin towers fell.

The dreadful hours (and images) that followed are etched in my mind and surely will be until I take my last breath.

I remember the shock and the sheer... terror.

And then in the aftermath, the incredible stories of courage and coming together. The uncommon caring... borne of our collective grief.

We shared memories of the fallen.

We honored the valor of our first responders.

We vowed to never forget.

(And I think we truly believed we never could.)

But here we are. Somehow - even as we post memorial tributes and images of ghost towers and tattered flags - we seem to have lost what mattered most back then.

Our profound (shared) heartbreak... and the ensuing sense of unbreakable unity.

In the surreal days after the attacks, we rediscovered two hidden treasures of our American story.

Community.

And compassion.

In his speech the night of the attacks, President George W. Bush said, "Today, our nation saw evil, the very worst of human nature. And we responded with the best of America -- with the daring of our rescue workers, with the caring for strangers, and neighbors who came to give blood and help in any way they could."

Our collective anguish became a call to care and comfort. A pledge to look out for one another. And a reminder that when we pull together, there's plenty of goodness to go around.

En masse we donated, volunteered, expressed gratitude to our first responders and extended sympathy and strong support to the families of those we lost.

We learned what it means to be Americans - to be wildly diverse and at the same time, at the very same moment in history, beautifully cohesive.

United we stood.

And we were stronger, wiser and better together.

There's a hit song from 2005 titled "Better Together," and with his lyrics, I think Jack Johnson summed it up pretty well.

Love is the answer
At least for most of the questions in my heart
Like, why are we here, and where do we go
And how come it's so hard?
It's not always easy
And sometimes life can be deceiving.
I'll tell you one thing:
It's always better when we're together.

If we want to get back there - to the caring and comfort and kindness we all desperately needed back then (and still do) - here's a pretty good place to start...

Love your neighbor.

Yes, even that one.

The one who doesn't look like you. Or live like you. Or think like you. Or vote like you. Or worship like you.

Or... like you.

Be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving each other... ~ Ephesians 4:32a (NASB)

Because kindness, compassion and mercy go a long way. I daresay, they'd stretch from sea to shining sea.

Wouldn't that be nice?

It only takes a handful of folks to link arms and lead the way.

Won't you be my neighbor?

(Pretty please?)

Let's circle back to the "united we stand" part of our American story...

Because together, we're brighter, braver and more beautiful. And together we can make this "land of liberty" safer, sweeter, stronger.

We are wildly diverse... and I truly believe we can be (once again) resolutely, comfortingly cohesive.

Neighbors united.

A nation indivisible.

Let's #neverforget that.