Eight years ago today started like any other day. I had sent my oldest off to Kindergarten. Jason was traveling and I was enjoying a few hours of peace before Sami woke up. I was checking e-mail and I didn’t even have the TV on, which was unusual for me. Then, I got an e-mail from Kirsten that just said to turn the TV on. I thought that was an odd e-mail from her and I assumed she was on TV.
I’ll never forget what my first thought was, “I need to go get my baby from school.” I needed to pull my family as close to me as possible.
The fear of knowing that just miles from my home a plane had crashed into the Pentagon and my family was not all together was the first time that as a mother I really felt that my family was in grave danger.
Jason was in Germany and I couldn’t get in contact with him. There was so much confusion about what was going on and who was in danger and the talk about the 3rd plane heading to DC was more than I could handle. I remember being so scared and I didn’t know what to do. I sat paralyzed in front of my TV. I could hear a lot of sirens which in hindsight I’m sure were all headed to the Pentagon.
That was the only day I was grateful for half-day kindergarten.
Last night my kids asked me about 9/11. None of my kids remember the day (the 2 youngest weren’t born yet) or understand how it changed the world. All they will ever know is the Alan Jackson‘s song captured that feeling and put it into words beautifully.. I tried to put into words the change that 9/11 brought to me, but I couldn’t. For me, it’s a feeling, not a tangible change that I can show my kids. The feeling of knowing that in an instant, everything can change. But
Where were you when the world stopped turning on that September day?