Eight years ago today, I sat on the living room floor of my in-laws playing with my son G-Man. Watching him sit up all by himself, for several minutes at a time, thrilled me. A young mother couldn't have been happier. Such a huge mile stone. Sitting up allows them to play with some toys and be happy independently for brief moments.
And as quickly as my excitement hit, it turned to sadness and grief.
"Corrine, the phone's for you."
"Hey Mom how are you? Guess what G-Man is sitting up all on his own. "
"That's great." I could tell by the tone of her voice that something was not good. I quickly thought of my grandmother that was flying out that day.
"What's wrong????" I fearfully asked.
"Turn on the news. Someone crashed into one of the Twin Towers in New York."
I have to admit for a brief second I was filled with relief. I said good-bye and turned on the news. Tears filled my eyes and a heaviness I had never felt filled my heart as I saw the one building burning. Then moments later, I sat and watched as the second plane hit. Most of us watched the news. I sat and watched numbly for three days, tears streaming down my face.
My heart ached for those involved, for their families and for our country. The feelings were strong, among many. Flags were in the yards and on cars. Such a tragic event seemed to pull us together as a nation closer than we had been for a long while. American pride seemed to beam from sea to shining sea.
But life as it does continues on. Some how the human body allows the grief, the heart ache to not pierce the soul so much. It never goes away, a silent in the back of the room lingering. But we do go on.
Its only been eight years and my kids today, when they saw the American Flag in our front yard, asked me if it was a holiday. I mentioned to them about 9/11 and Patriotic day and told them they would probably talk about it in school today. Maybe not? Hopefully!
And yet, as much as I remember that day, as all who were around that day. But some how we carry on, some days probably most days for most of us, not even thinking about that day.
Kids go off to school.
Kids draw on the walls.
We discover hidden in our weeds growing Tomatillo plants.
Laundry still has to get done. 
Life goes on. We live and we remember and we hope to never forget. Life is fragile. Life is sweet. Life is for living. And even when bad happens, life is good.
3 comments:
Great post! I also enjoyed reading your letter to the president. You have some great ideas. Unfortunatley, there are no easy answers to health care. Time will tell if things will change. I am sad to hear that medicaid is such a pain. Not much of a safety net when it doesn't work. Thoughts and prayers are with you and your family.
Great post! B was only 16 months, Wyn 10 months, and FiFi not even born. I don't think they understand the significance. We talk about it at home and try to explain. I am happy to say B's class watched a video about 9/11 and discussed it.
My youngest was six, so my kids really felt the impact of that awful day and the days following it. It was all so incredibly heartbreaking.
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