and I'm having a hard time of it. I thought I might have enough distance this year that I wouldn't get all weepy for a few days before the anniversary, but I guess not yet.
In so many ways, it completely changed my life.
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My 9/11 story is, of course, longer and more involved than that. I've told it a million times. I'm struck by how, even now, it's a staple of conversation here. When you meet someone new, from a professional contact to a first date, exchanging 9/11 experiences is de rigueur.
I remember being so touched on 9/11 and in the days afterwards by the response of other X-Men fans. I hadn't been in fandom long (started writing the previous fall) and was just overwhelmed by the letters from readers of my stories and from fellow fans all over the world. I got a number of letters from China, translated and forwarded by the same kind fan who had translated my stories. There was something surreal about well-wishes from the other side of the world in the midst of that tragedy.
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She was right, of course, but it's a sad kind of being right. The loss of innocence of children is a hard, hard part for me of the legacy of 9/11.
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I always think of Jennifer when I read that, because I think she was right and they were. But I also feel like their innocence was totally shattered and I'm not resilient enough to be reconciled to six-year-olds being thankful they survived.
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Now it's a couple of days before the fifth anniversary and I've been feeling all weepy again and wanting to do something with that. I'm a story teller, so that's what I tend to do with those kinds of feelings. Thanks to anyone who read this far.