Thinking back, 10 years ago

I was in bed sleeping.  I worked third shift.  My daughter was at preschool and my, not yet a year old, son was at his baby sitter's house.   The phone rang.
 I ignored it.  I really needed the sleep.  It rang again, so I reluctantly answered it.  My best friend was on the phone.  He told me a plane had just flown into the twin towers.  I told him to stop messing around with me and let me get some sleep.  He said if I didn't believe him to go turn on my tv.  And he sounded scared.  I went downstairs and turned on my tv.  I just sat there watching, unbelieving, with Josh on the phone still.  I had to call my dad, he had to know what was happening.

The same conversation I had with Josh unfolded with my dad, except this time I was the caller and Dad didn't believe me.  Dad also worked third shift and didn't like being woken up while he was sleeping.  The two of us sat staring at our tv screens, together on the phone.  I was so scared, I wanted to be a little girl again safe in my Daddy's arms.  But I wasn't.  I was a grownup, with two kids of my own, who needed their Mommy's protection.  I wanted to go pick up Ladybug and Monkey, but Dad said they would be safe were they were.  He also told me keeping things normal for the kids was the best way to make them feel safe.  I knew he was right, but I called the school and the sitter anyway, just to make sure.  And then sat in front of my tv watching the horror play over and over again.

My daughter lost a friend that day.  Her school friend was on one of the planes, with his mom.  They were coming home from a vacation.  His dad didn't go with them because he couldn't get the time off from work.  Ladybug's school held a wonderful and moving memorial service, they even planted a tree for the family.  I can't even begin to understand how this dad felt, the loss, anger, fear.

Today

I am truly grateful that my family is safe.  I think back to the events of that day not just on today, but whenever something strikes the memories.  I am grateful to all our men and women in uniform.  They put their lives on the line to keep all American families safe.  I have talked with my kids about September 11, tears trickling down my cheeks.  Trying to convey what it was like.  My older ones are capable of understanding it was a tragedy, but not truly understanding the emotions it brings.  It's like when my Mom tells me about where she was when Kennedy was shot.  Or my Grandma telling me about Pearl Harbor.  I understand these were real tragedies, but I can't feel what they felt then.  I am happy they understand, and hope that they never have to feel how I felt on that day.  I hope they never have anything like this happen to them.

~Earthy Mom

Where were you?