I think it’s important to remember 9/11/01. For my family, as my sons are too young to remember it themselves, and for myself. So I never forget.
I remember exactly where I was. Asleep. Living on the West Coast, not working, and Poe was working nights, and he had gotten home and was asleep too. My mother-in-law called and woke us up. I remember thinking, “Someone had better be dead for this phone to be ringing.” Imagine.
I was pregnant with Logan… Although I can’t remember if we knew I was pregnant yet or not. He’d be born the following May. Joseph was almost 18 months old. God, that seems a long time ago – they’re in Kindergarten and third grade now. 8 and 6. Time flies.
I remember feeling fear, knowing we lived near a large city. I remember my confusion with the rest of the country when we realized it wasn’t just the towers, but the pentagon and another flight as well. I remember watching the towers fall. I remember the tears. I remember remaining hooked to the TV in the following days, wanting any information – and feeling out of touch if the TV wasn’t on. I eventally had to turn it off, and not watch at all until some time had passed. I remember the brave men and women, including civilians, who died trying to help. I remember the complete helplessness I felt. I remember not knowing if I was actually safe.
I don’t ever want to forget those people who died that day. They existed. They mattered. They were important to someone in their lives, and they’re important now.
I remember.
Updated: I wanted to add a link to an entry from a survivor. I forget, sometimes, that there were survivors, I still love you New York
This is not about politics, Republicans, Democrats or the elections. If you politicize this in comments, your comment will be deleted – even if I love you.
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