A painful memory.

May I wasn't on New York the 11th of September,
may I wasn't either on Madrid the 11th of March,
but I still cry.

Yesterday I watch "The Guys" (2002). A film in which a captain, from the New York Fire Department, who has lost eight men in the 11s attacks to the World Trade Centre, prepares the eulogies he must deliver with the help of an editor (Sigourney Weaver).

It makes tribute to the firemen of New York who died, altogether 343, saving the life to thousands of people, but also to all of those who, in their own way, help the others.

Whenever I see the images, I feel the pain again. And when I see a film like this, I cannot avoid crying.