Nine Eleven

All of us are remembering where we were 9-11-2001. Fourteen years have passed, but in my heart it feels like yesterday. Our life at the time was a flurry of family turmoils; our youngest daughter had moved back home to escape an abusive relationship, my Mother was on a downhill slide with her dementia and my brother was facing his last year with terminal heart disease.

That morning I was on my way to Mom’s farm 100 miles away to take her to a doctor’s appointment. I had an oil change scheduled early at the dealership and was in the waiting room watching TV when I saw the first reports of the plane crashing into the Trade Center. By the time they had the car ready and I was on the road to Mom’s, the second plane went down. The radio announcers reported the news in a panicked state and I remember feeling so vulnerable in a world I’d never known. I turned the car around, called Mom and told her to turn the TV on and to stay inside close to the phone. As I drove home I saw long lines at gas stations, really long…out on the highway, backed up to refuel in this state of emergency. My head spun with what to do first, call my husband…he had left that morning on a business trip and was on the road too. He too was in shock, turned the car around and headed home. We both realized our lives had changed forever. In the days that followed we watched in horror the coverage on TV. I remember thinking how worried I was about Mom’s declining health and Amy’s broken heart. Now those problems seemed so small compared to the grief so many were facing with the loss of their loved ones.

A lot has happened in fourteen years. Life has a way of going on. Regardless of what happened yesterday, one thing is certain about life…the fact that it’s uncertain. But that makes the sun coming up each morning so special.

Our gratitude to the many who sacrificed countless hours and months in all capacities to rebuild our country. Today I honor those who lost their lives, our thoughts and prayers are with the many loved ones left behind.