It is a little on the early side for this, but tonight the annual binging of 9/11 documentaries has begun. Jen found a new one on Hulu and we’re watching it as I type this. It focuses on small groups of people who survived together being reunited 25 years later. It’s brutal but it is also heartwarming. That’s hard to wrap my head around, but it works so far.
Why do we do it every year? Honoring the memories of those who didn’t make it out? Honoring the trauma of those who did? We were 100s of miles away from all of the events that day so maybe we’re just thumbing our noses at the memories of how scared and helpless we felt. I don’t know. I don’t think I want to know, really. We do it every year and we’re not going to stop any time soon.
In other, unrelated, and much happier news, the U-Haul trailer that Bellana rented to move most of her stuff to California is packed and ready to be picked up to start its journey West. Bellana worked her ass off over the last few days go get everything ready. They are coming to get the thing tomorrow. She is at her dad’s tonight (it is his birthday) but she sent my wife a text asking if we could run to the store and pick up an Apple AirTag and put it into one of the boxes so that we can watch the trailer as it travels across the country. Ain’t living in the future fun?
Okay. I have a super long day in store for tomorrow and it is getting late so I am going to go to bed. Good night, everyone.
Inside the Red Head's Head 
This is such an honest and beautiful post. What I appreciate most is how naturally it moves between collective memory and ordinary family life—from the enormous tragedy of 9/11 to the very personal excitement of watching a loved one begin a new chapter.
Your reflections on watching 9/11 documentaries every year are particularly poignant. I think many readers will understand that complicated mixture of emotions: sadness, remembrance, fear, gratitude, and even a strange need to revisit something we already know happened.
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