I knew what he meant. For the last six years, my husband has gotten up on this morning, turned on the TV, and watched a handful of mourners read a list of names near a gaping wound in the earth, his own small act of remembrance. Today, the major news programs, all atwitter with the latest ObamaBidenMcCainPalin whatever, were not covering it.
It feels like any other day. To look at us all, riding the train and walking the streets and going to work, you'd think we didn't remember. But we do. I know I do.
(Mel has organized another act of remembrance over at Bridges.)