9-11 Musings

I well remember my husband waking me up on September 11, 2001, to tell me that two airplanes had hit the Twin Towers.

I well remember calling my mother, half a country away, just to tell her I loved her. Just in case the end had come.

I well remember trying to keep the graphic pictures away from our children, then, ages 8 and 5.

I well remember looking up into the sky later that day. A sky where no planes flew overhead.

I well remember a good friend from high school, now living in New York City, telling me that one of her friends was a stewardess on one of the planes that was flown into the Twin Towers. Her friend loved to knit, and was most likely carrying some knitting on board for one of her grandchildren. Knitting that was destroyed by hateful men. A grandmother that was destroyed by a hateful ideology.

I well remember another friend who had just moved to NYC to play a Broadway show, sending me pictures she took of the Twin Towers just a few days before the attack.

I well remember sending an e-mail to a friend in eastern Europe, telling her that we were OK, but changed forever.



Today I thought of those lives lost. I went to a memorial site, built in our town, commemorating all those who died on September 11, 2001. Each name is etched in bronze. Forever saved in memory.

We flew our American flags today. One on the front of the house. And then James's flag, in the back yard, commemorating a life lost in Afghanistan. A life lost to protect me and you.

God bless all those touched by the losses created on this day.

Thank you to those who have given their lives for us.