A Matter of Perspective

When I was a kid, I remember my parents talking about events that happened which changed their worldview.  I can remember my mother's face when she talked about hearing that Kennedy had been shot.  It was not a look I never saw in everyday life; it was a sort of haunted look.  It was the look my Grandfather had when you asked him about The War and Pearl Harbor.  It is the look I imagine I have when I talk with my kids about the events of September 11th.

I never had a reason to understand the serious look on my parents or grandparents faces when they talked about living through life changing world events.  We never had anything to the scale of the Kennedy Assassination or Pearl Harbor until the year the Berlin Wall fell and we went to war in Iraq, the first time.  And really, those things did not affect my everyday life much.  They certainly didn't bring a haunted look to my face when I recall them.  It wasn't until September 11th that I really understood what brings about that type of look.

My kids have had nothing in their decade of life to haunt their facial expressions.  They have heard the stories of September 11 from us.  They have heard about World War II and some of those atrocities in school.  But they haven't lived through anything like those events (Thank God!).  This morning, I realized how profound a difference is it to read and hear about history versus to live through it.  Colin shared the following story with me:

"Oh, so Mom, you won't believe what happened in gym yesterday.  (they are playing volleyball) So, the score was nine to eleven.  Nick serves the ball.  It goes over the net and hits me right in the middle of the face.  It bounces off me and hits Carter, who is standing right next to me, right in the face.  We both fell to the ground.  I mean it was totally like 9-11.  You know because we look so much alike, we were like the Twin Towers..."

He went on trying to convince me of his story and all the coincidences between this act in gym class and the event he has heard so much about.  Only, I tried to tell him it was nothing like September 11th.  It was volleyball.  It was gym.  You were safe.  No one died.  No one was afraid for years afterward.  No one had their life completely changed. But to him, they are similar.  Thank God for that!  I hope it is a long time before he tells a story about his perspective on an event that brings that haunted look to his face.  I hope it is a long time before he realizes what a difference there really is between volleyball and history books.