September Mourn

Most days blend from one into the next for me.  At some point, they all start running together in a blur.  I will often forget that I need to stop and get a gallon of milk, so my kids end up having toast for breakfast.  Occasionally I will totally space a doctor’s appointment and feel just terrible about it. I often forget to pay my electric bill until I get the shut off notice.  Not any of my other bills mind you, just the electric bill, don’t ask me why. Then there are those milestone and momentous days that will forever stand out when I am a beaming parent or my children have the best days of their lives. Those are embedded and burned into my brain in a very detailed fashion. Those aside, there are very few days that I recall so vividly and emotionally as September 11, 2001.

I, of course, will start off by telling you where I was. I pulled down the long driveway of my friend Lynn’s house, arriving a few moments before the start time of our 9 am playgroup, with my kids seated in the back of my green minivan. Nestled in their seats, sippy cups and goldfish crackers tucked beside each of them. The day was perfect. A beautiful, clear, blue skied day with the faintest chill in the air. Playgroup was a lifesaver of a gathering for me.  As a stay at home mother of two small children ages 4 ½ and almost 2, living in rural New Hampshire, I looked forward to these play times as much as my kids did, for the interaction. We met weekly with somewhere between 4-7 other mothers and a significant gaggle of kids, all under the age of 6 years old. To label them as a rambunctious crew, would have been a slight understatement. As I pulled in, I noticed that one of the other mothers was sitting in her car, her head down.  I released my children from their seats, grabbed my bag of goodies and began to make my way into the house. I noticed that the mother in her car had not moved, head still down. I stopped by her driver’s side window, waved, and she looked up at me with a blank look on her face. She opened the car door and said, “I am listening to the radio. A plane just struck one of the twin towers in New York.”

We both went inside amidst little bodies in full throttle, doing what they had grown accustomed to do.  It was loud and chaotic, but full of all the things kids do best.  The adults had begun to come together and talk softly about what was going in New York City and we decided to turn on the television in another room, away from the kids, to see what was going on. We were going to watch in shifts.  My friend Kim left to take the first shift. She was gone only a short period and when she returned, she had a grave look on her face. She quietly informed us that a second plane had hit the South Tower, and that more planes had reportedly been hijacked. Amazingly, collectively, we all had the same reaction: silence. More than silence it was pure shock. And nothing hit us mothers in the gut harder than being in a room full of children and getting this news. We, as a nation, were clearly under attack. The gravity of it paralyzed all of us as we watched our babies play without a care in the world.

Navigating the next few days was difficult.  Not being able to fully explain to two small children what was going on in detail, I felt compelled to sit in front of the TV (something that I rarely do) and watch every minute, almost in zombie fashion, experiencing periods of raw emotion, crying and utter disbelief. I didn’t want to leave my house.  I didn't want to eat. Nothing will stick with me more than the sight of that plane hitting the second tower. The underbelly of the plane looked so familiar.  I remember the eerie, silent skies above in the days after. I will forever remember the stories of those trapped in a stairwell together and surviving that horrific day. I will not forget the faces of the people who were frantically searching for loved ones.  I will not forget the calls from loved ones as they reached out to family to tell them how much they loved them as their planes hurled towards devastation. I will forever remember the bravery, the courage, the sacrifice.

In the days that followed, I did not care about my privacy, or profiling or being unfair. If I, or anyone else, needed to be inconvenienced at the hands of our government to protect more lives from being lost, then so be it.  The hard realization hit that we, as a nation of people, are hated by some, and there is very little protection against this extreme form of hatred, without some kind of cost. In some cases hatred is a necessary part of life. How can we possibly have intense love, without some form of hate. And, for the first time in my life, I felt true, deep hatred rise up within me.

In the weeks that followed, I remember hearing how there was a increase in the divorce rate, the break up rate and the reconciliation rate after 9/11 due to people realizing how important it was to not let those that they loved, or could love, slip away. It became equally apparent how critical it was to end relationships not worth being in. Letting people go is just as important as keeping those we love close to us.

In the years that followed the simple realizations became this: We are not safe without diligence. But more importantly, never leave anything unsaid. Especially when it comes to those that you love most. Say it.

In the last 10 years, I have slipped back into my same or similar day to day routine. So much of what I took away from September 11, 2001, has always stayed with me, but I have let some of the elements creep back in that I promised I would not.  I need to forgive more.  Say what I feel, when I feel it.  Never forget to say “I love you” when my heart says it and never take one single person that I have in my life for granted.

Let this tenth anniversary of the worst day in the history of our days be a reminder. Never forget.  Never forget those who used courage, bravery, strength, faith and love to its ultimate, fullest potential. Never forget those who sacrificed. Never forget all of the things that are worth remembering.

~<3

* feel free to use the comments box below to share your experience of where you were on 9/11/2001