Remembering

Even before I turned on the TV this morning to see some of the 9/11 anniversary coverage, I'd been thinking about how that day changed me and what I've learned over the last 10 years. I wasn't personally affected by the events of September 11, but I think everyone who was alive that day was changed in some way. I, along with so many others, lost something very real—a sense of absolute security that I never knew I had until it was gone. I started questioning things I had always believed in and began wondering if anything really mattered—after all, the ones who had been hurt most by 9/11 were those who had loved the most.

It took four guys from Dublin and the image of a heart in a suitcase to remind me that love is the only thing you can always take with you, even though it sometimes hurts the most. The U2 concert on November 9, 2001, was the first time since I started watching TV on the morning of 9/11 that I felt peace and hope and, most important, a tremendously energizing love. I can even hear the moment it happened on my bootleg copy of the show. During "One," the band scrolled the names of the passengers on the hijacked flights on the screen behind them and then on up to the ceiling. Halfway through the song, when Bono's singing "These are our brothers; these are our sisters; we get to carry each other," there's an incredible roar from the crowd. That's when the names of the New York City firefighters started showing up on the screen, and that's when I realized that life is precious, no matter how long or short, how wonderful or crappy, how boring or exciting it is. The heroes of 9/11 knew that, and that's why they sacrificed their lives to save others.

After "One," U2 ended the show with "Walk On" and an amazing chorus of hallelujahs to say good-bye. Yes, there are countless reasons to walk on, to keep going, and I can't let fear stop me from living a full life. I don't always remember that, but I'm trying. The important thing is that since that night, even though things haven't been perfect—sometimes far, far from it—I've at least been able to say that I have love and hope and faith, and that's all I really need.