On 9/11.

This past week leading up to 9/11 all kinds of tributes have been swirling around on blogs, facebook, television....And I'll admit, I've paid very little attention to them.

It's not because I don't care. Of course I do.

Just like everyone else, I remember exactly where I was when I heard that the plane had struck the first tower, and then the second. I remember being glued to the TV in horror watching the footage of them collapsing.

It was to our generation what JFK's assassination was to our parents, and Pearl Harbor was to our grandparents. A pivotal and horrific moment in history that will never escape our memory.

Except that just like with most things, time seems to erode the shock of it.

But then I started watching some of the footage tonight, and listening to the individual stories, and remembering again the suffering of all of those innocent people.

And suddenly my evening plans didn't seem so appealing as I thought about all the widows, widowers, parentless children....the families and friends that live with the loss every day as the world moves on around them.

Every September 11th the country pays it's tribute (as it should) and then goes right back to it's own life again. It's politically correct to be patriotic on this day. Not so much every other day.

And that angers me.

What about those who are daily living with the consequences of that day? Ten years later our soldiers are still fighting what is now being dubbed a "forgotten war". Thousands of Americans have lost their lives since 9/11. And thousands of children are growing up without one or both parents at home as a result of war.

In fact, the children of this war are sacrificing more on a daily basis than the average New Yorker who pays tribute on 9/11 can even fathom.

Yes, we chose the military life. Micah was commissioned during a time of war. That is not a decision we regret, despite the consequences on our family and personal life. While we as individuals obviously didn't choose war, it is our reality, and we did choose to marry men (or women) who are fighting in it. And of course it's hard. But nobody ever said it was going to be easy. So we deal with it, make the best of it....choose to accept what we cannot control.

But then my daughter comes sobbing into my room in the middle of the night because she misses her daddy. And I look at my son who wasn't even kicking in the womb yet when his daddy left, and now he has teeth, and giggles, and has a little personality.....and Micah has missed all but two weeks of it. I don't feel sorry for myself. But I do feel sorry for them. It occurs to me that they are paying for 9/11 every day and they weren't even born yet.

At least we have the hope of being together again, while many families--both from 9/11 and the resulting war--do not.

So of course we remember on 9/11.

But what about the other 364 days?

It appears that many Americans, myself included, are oblivious to the sacrifice going on around them every day.