Today I wear a bracelet
Which is fourteen years old
I wear it this day every year
For the moments that it holds
It was made for us in gratitude
For being there and holding up
The families of those who suffered
That somber day in Washington
Crafted by hand in Glory’s colors
That once were bright without a mark
Each year the colors fade a bit
And the beads become more scarred
At first I made an effort
To keep it quite pristine
But on this day I realize
Value is not in keeping clean
The dirt and scratches simply show
Fourteen years of life we’ve lived
We’re not defined by cracks and tears
But by what of ourselves we give
Dear bracelet, you’ll be on my wrist
On this very day each year
Until one of us lets go that thread
Life well worn out for those not here
-a.r.
A picture of the bracelet made, and given to me, by a volunteer at the Pentagon days after September 11, 2001 to thank those of us who escorted families to view the site where their loved ones died that horrific day. I am proud to have stood there with them, to have wept with them, to have heard stories about their loved ones, to have been available. It is one of my saddest, but proudest, days in the military.
sometimesihatemycat 
