Do you remember where you were 7 years ago today when the Twin Towers were attacked? I bet you do.

I was on my way to USF Tampa for classes. The report came over the radio as I pulled into the parking lot. Classes were cancelled, so I went to lunch with my friend Warren. We watched on the news as we waited for our meals. I remember thinking, “How could this happen to us?” When food arrived, I prayed. It was an extra-long prayer. When I looked up, Warren was still praying. To my knowledge, Warren wasn’t a Christian, but that day he needed to talk to God. I remember it vividly. Like it was yesterday.

On my way in to work today, I tried to recall other pieces of history. I remembered being in Mrs. Smith’s fourth grade class at Dundee Elementary when the Challenger exploded. And in Mr. Kennon’s ninth grade history class when we invaded Iraq.

Isn’t it funny how we have such vivid momories of the worst days in history? And the best days of our lives fly by.

I don’t remember much from my wedding. Once Ginny walked through those doors, the rest was a blur. I couldn’t tell you who attended. I know we did the Hokey Pokey. I have to defer to pictures for the rest. But that was one of the best days in my life.

Why is that? Bad days stick with us and good days fly past?

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