Everyone has their story about today, ten years ago. They can not help it. It is as if the entire country was in the same fiery car crash, and its horrific memorys keep an entire country of survivors up at night. It is impossible to forget.
I feel guilty that I was safe in Charlotte, when most of my family was in the heart of the tragedy. I woke my sister up in Boston, she was still asleep. I couldn’t reach my father in Connecticut or New Jersey, did anyone know where he was working that day? My Grandmother lives in Fairfax, Va. My Aunt Sarah in Alexandria, Va. My Uncle was in the Pentagon. My mother was a mess. My father said one word “Osama Bin Laden.” Uhm, Who?
At 9:30 that morning I jumped in my car and drove to the YMCA, I did not know where else to go. I still see most of the people I sat with that day at the round table in the common area. We watched the news all afternoon. We prayed in the chapel. Do they remember that I was there with them? One little person in a sea of panicked people. One little city, far from Pennsylvania, New York and Washington, DC. No one felt safe.
Ten years ago I had just graduated from college, and I did not have a job. I was fresh from the “security” of the small, southern (mostly) women’s college, I graduated from. I was excited about the future and I was focused on me.
Today I have a husband and two children and I live in that happy place that young motherhood requires of its particpants. Nick Junior blares way more often than the news. Mommy website pop up more than CNN. I go to parks and I don’t worry about my safety. I focus on my family.
The thousands of people who lost their loved one’s do not get the same opportunity. The memory’s and loss will continue to influence their every day life. I expect that they will grieve forever. I pray for them.
If you get a chance, please read this article by Allysa Torres: