If September 11th were my son, he would be eight years old and just starting the third grade.
If September 11th were my son, he would be playing video games right now.
If September 11th were my son, he'd be into Star Wars and Lego and Harry Potter and Pokemon.
If September 11th were my son, he would like to play soccer and baseball.
If September 11th were my son, he would be laughing.
If September 11th were my son, he would love to run.
If September 11th were my son, I would kiss his forehead every night as he slept.

But September 11th was buried long ago.

You are my son.
And each year you grow.
And each year, my grief gets smaller.