How easily we forget.

This morning, at the girl's coffee, we were lucky enough to have two of our girlfriends who usually can't come, join us, making our coffee crowd pleasantly larger than usual. Since the CMS schools are out for spring break, we added a few more kids to the mix, too. Next week, it's Fort Mill's turn.

The conversation flowed easily across the normal topics- dogs, house values, schools (somehow this ALWAYS comes up), the neighbors, and our never-ending escapades with our husbands and children. Melissa T., being the mom of four (two of whom are twins), always has an entertaining story.

But, since we were lucky enough to have Debbi among us today, the conversation turned a bit, and somehow we found it had turned to 9/11. Debbi started to tell us the story of how the day went for her. And her husband. They were there. They lived 9/11. He, on the 81st floor of the second tower. We all listened, a rapt audience for the harrowing story that we've all seen played out and told thousands of times on TV. Only this time, it was being told right in front of us. It brought the memories of the day, in a haunting new way. The goose bumps were back. How easily we forget.

On Sunday, I placed the palm branches from church on the kitchen table- spread out, so that we would remember throughout the week. I asked Mason if he remembered what they were about, "To praise Jesus!" he said. I noticed this afternoon, that they have started to wither. I'm sure that by Sunday, they will be small, withered, and frail; and I will sweep them off the table, and into the trash can. Staring at the leaves today, I thought about how palm branches were enthusiastically waved at Jesus, yet forgotten within a week.

How easily we forget.

I'm really glad that 2000 years later, we're still remembering Him.