Tuesday, May 27, 2003

It was only in watching that Memorial Day concert that I realized for sure what I had been suspecting for a while: I am over 9/11. I don't mean it can't still set my blood to boiling, watching the footage of the second plane hit, or the fire at the Pentagon, or the hundreds of photos we have all seen thousands of times. I still think the enemy is out there, too, waiting to strike, and I'm still prepared to obliterate those who will not surrender. (As my friend in the Air Force in Qatar says, "Dude, you're getting a MOAB!")

What I mean is much simpler. The prolonged funk and anxiety and depression and so forth has lifted. I can still be brought to grief, but I no longer exist in it. This is mostly a good thing, but I'm worried that some desirable changes in me brought about by that grief (and anxiety) might slip away.


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