Clear Skies

I remember a crystal clear morning.  Sharp blue sky.  Not even a wisp of a cloud.  And no planes.  Not one single plane crossed the sky from horizon to horizon.  It was a beautiful sky but it was not a beautiful day.  I remember the disbelief.  The slump against the wall.  The worry.  The images that linger.  The need to gather loved ones close.  The hushed tones.  The questions. Where is?  Do you know?  Who is responsible? How? Why?  The horrific loss. 

Even now, I cry.  Cry for the lost souls.  The brave souls who responded to the call.  The many who have followed in their footsteps.  All so that today, when I look up, I see planes.  Beautiful shiny planes.  Freely traveling the skies.  So I give thanks.  And I remember.  And write it all down again so that I will never forget.