Posted by
Gabrielle Cusumano on Tuesday, July 15, 2008 6:28:36 PM
"Like threads woven into a piece of fabric, we are a nation of extraordinary people. Though slashed and ripped, torn and scorched, every fiber holds fast at some point to another, entwined, enmeshed, single strands, though hanging severed apart, are still attached, attached by a thread to others of a greater whole, not of what was, but of what is."
"The living spoke in bittersweet tones, of youth and dreams, of loss and of found. They are the loose ends and they wonder why. No one anywhere knows why. Reason is not there or in the here and now. One of those living threads said as though reciting a creed, "When people are running out of burning buildings, firemen run in..."
"As woven but torn single threads who now forever remain, forget not to remember, to remember to look your loved one in his eyes, and tell him, tell him you love him, each and everyday you are alive. Yet forget not, to remember, to remember those fibers now threadbare, those who were torn apart amongst us, and those torn away who were slain."
Originally Written and Entitled: Survivors and Nation