When I traveled with two friends several years ago, it got very interesting going to a museum together. One friend liked to take her time and read every description of a painting or statue word for word while one friend could stroll quickly through, feeling satisfied that she saw everything. I was the in-betweener I guess.
When I moved to London, I was determined to see all the museums and all parts of the museums. It was unthinkable to miss anything because then I would feel guilty that I wasn’t taking advantage of attractions that I wouldn’t be able to see all the time. When I was in Sydney in May, I went to just one museum, the Art Gallery of New South Wales, and was there for only two hours.
Eleven years later, I’m glad I visited the 9/11 memorial. I saw a mother with her two young kids at the memorial and the kids come to a name and excitedly yell, “I found him! I found him!”. The mother catches up with them and begins to tear up and the kids ask, “Why are you crying?” and the mother says, “Because I’m sad!”