The 9/11 dad
Hello Wednesday.
I like the middle. The sucky part of the week (Monday was a bear) and the better (hoping for best) is on its way.
It's a week of deadlines, and the writing is hard. Writers understand this brain block you get every now and then, but it's real and it's pulling out all the stops with me this week. Doubting whether or not anyone reads my work or ever cares, well, it's discouraging at times.
Then there's all this #noise that is filtering in my feed, ALL feeds about, well, consequences, or rather the lack of them. I want to speak as loudly as others but it is not worth the energy. For many, I am ashamed.
THEN, God says, "I'll help."
Backstory: I visiting NYC 6 months after the 9/11 attack. I photographed what I saw, and one thing that caught my attention, a poster of a dad that was missing. For the last 25 years, I've remembered Michael Tinley and have posted on social media every 9/11, mostly for me so that I will #neverforget. When Len and I visited the NYC memorial in 2019, I found his name and said a prayer. Remembering him is automatic, like family.
Yesterday, I 'met' his girl, Jenna, the little girl who made the poster. She found one of the posts because this week was her father's birthday and she was randomly searching. We 'talked' back and forth and realized this was a blessing, a connection, one for life.
I will continue to write #words as long as I'm allowed. When you least expect it, people will read, feel connected, and be uplifted.
