I’m about to do something in extremely poor taste; and I’m going to explain to you the reason why; and I’m not going to apologize. And you’re going to understand. And more than that, you’re also going to support me.

You see, while 9/11 for most other people holds memories of dread and of grief, for me, it holds memories of hope and of joy. Because September 11 is my wedding anniversary.

Margaret and I married each other on the afternoon of September 11, 1993. That means, this Friday, we will had been married 16 years. Not a milestone, but significant enough to keep us on the dance floor long after all those young whippersnappers have been driven off, leaving us to dance with the 20-years-ers, 30-years-ers, 40-years-ers, and… Well, you get the point.

And we’re not the only couple who was married on September 11. As they say:

Married in September's golden glow,
Smooth and serene your life will go.

I personally know at least one other couple who was married on September 11. And couples are still getting married on September 11. And they, like Margaret and I, we all have to look to that day—not as an example of what to fear—but as an example of love, of what our lives ought to be.