Every year I sit alone listening to the reading of the names. I imagine my name being read, and I think of my family. That's when I cry. Love to all the families who lost someone ten years ago today.
Here is my sister's poem inspired by a conversation between my father and I about fate. Thank you for this Lily Belle:
Experience has nothing to do with it.
My father says denying my brothers theory
Can you listen to me this time?
Past arguments have taught me to tune them out
However, this debate changed my usual path of silence
Not expecting how this moment would change me now
The question presented is whether now is an illusion
if so, can we experience anything at all
negating the idea of a decided path of life
Each had a strong and opposite theory
Arguing whether the past has a cause
And the concept of time
My father says time is irrelevant
There is only now and nothing more
There is no past
And memory is not an experience
With this my fathers theory concludes
Fate or a mapped out path is impossible
Of course we have a path
And time is the acknowledgement of our life
My brothers theory intrigues me more then my fathers
As I was confused on his sense of now
My instinct initiates a recall of his life experience
The past that has formed his ideals
A past event comes to mind
Walking his usual path to work
An experience permanently changed his being
At the time, I struggled to understand his devastation
Ten years later, I now have some sense
This conflicting theory is his struggle for why
He furthers his theory to say the following
The past haunts us
Present always in the now
The path we follow
Every time we process a moment
The experience affects our future
Reflecting on the experience a theory emerges
The time has come to unmask the past
Break through the misty path and understand his now
