True longing is not superficial; it comes from a place deep within and is more formidable than plain and ordinary wanting or wishing. And with the passage of time, real longing strengthens, and becomes more powerful.

I long for the summer sun to warm my face, especially on a cold winter’s day. I long for the familiar smell and embrace of a child, especially when he or she has been away, or for an intimacy and innocence once felt in a relationship that has become more complicated. Add to that candy corn in the middle of May, or a lazy afternoon spent on the back porch with a cold iced tea and a good book when life has picked up steam.

And although it surprised me, a longing is what I felt as the sun set on the 20th anniversary of 9/11.

I spent the day watching the powerful tributes, taking in the large American flag that hung from the rafters of the George Washington Bridge, connecting with the friend I was with when we heard the news of the first tower, watching the US Open Women’s Championship (that included an honor guard of women in uniform), and listening to the poised words of recognition and remembrance from the finalist who lost.

But mostly I spent the day thinking about these last twenty years - where we have been, and where we are now.

Every American was affected by the horrific attacks of 9/11, but for those living in Connecticut, which has such a close proximity to New York City, the affects were especially devastating. So many people in our community experienced loss. We could see and smell the smoke from the burning towers. We heard the military planes flying overhead at night.

As one writer who lost her husband on 9/11 commented on an anniversary post, “On September 10th we were one kind of person, and on September 12th we were another.”

And I felt that. Not because I had personally lost a family member or a close friend, but because after the attacks of 9/11, I was different; our country was different.

As a collective group, we cared not about race or age or gender or party affiliation. We unified over a love of country, over a love for our neighbors, and a deep concern for one another. Many lives were forever altered, but as a nation we became kinder and stronger. We were not strangers or foes; we stood in solidarity. There were struggles all around us, and national mourning and sadness, but there was also a burning spirit that ignited moments after the second plane hit.

For me, it was the first time in my life that I felt scared, truly scared. The USA had always been a safe haven far away from foreign threats…and now it was not.

But rather than feeling beaten down and defeated, we pressed forward, and we did it with a feeling of togetherness. There was less criticism, more understanding. Less hate, more love.

And on the 20th anniversary of the worst acts of terrorism our country has ever seen, that spirit was back. All around us there were flags flying, tales of extraordinary heroism, quiet tears dropping as the names of those who had fallen were read out loud, and strangers embracing and consoling one another. There were church bells ringing and local and national gatherings. The world stopped, and our country’s grit and perseverance beamed through. It felt good to stand as one again.

So, let’s not simply check the box, turn the page, and go back to business as usual now that the 20th anniversary has been marked. Let’s consider these words – always remember, never forget - and do just that. Not annually, but each - and every - day.

Saturday stirred in me a longing for connectedness; do you feel it too? It reminded me that a good way to honor those we lost is to live our lives steep in community, with open arms. That our flag, with broad stripes and bright stars, flying overhead or stretched out and held in the hands of our servicemen and women, is always a welcome and beautiful sight, and that when our country comes together as one nation under God, we are truly formidable.