Dear New York,
It has been ten years. Ten years since one Tuesday morning became a day that stopped the world. I was 11 years old and awoke in Australia on Wednesday to see it all over the news. I remember my parents sitting in shock but I don’t think I really understood it. I don’t even remember going to school that day, but I’m sure I did. While I was sleeping, America was in distress. It isn’t fair, none of this was fair.
The weight of this day didn’t hit me until I was much older. I always thought it was sad, but it never affected me until I was old enough to attempt to understand. Now, it breaks my heart. I was miles and miles and days away from New York but I cannot read, watch or think about it without crying. American or not, this day changed my life. I cry for the lives wasted, for the families that lost loved ones, for the city that was rocked and for a country that was devastated.
And ten years on, rebuilding has begun, but we do not build to replace, as nothing will ever be the same, but we rebuild for a new beginning, a new resolve and a way forward, never forgetting where we came from. The day my eyes land upon the breathtaking skyline of New York I will shed a tear, for the sadness of what should have been and for hope and the amount of pride and respect I have for the United States of America and it’s people.
To New york, to America, to the world. I will never forget that September morning of 2001. I will never forget the way you stood strong and through all the hurt and the pain, I will never forget the way you came together and rose above the ashes.
It has been ten years in what feels like ten seconds. I will never forget.
I love you, God Bless and keep standing strong,