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.