I got up extra early that September 11th . Wanted to make some zucchini bread before the morning's routine took the time away. The phone rang. "Emily. Turn on the T.V." my mother's urgent voice cried. That dreadful sick feeling slowly creeping its way into my body.
Disbelief. Shock. Surreal, this unforeseen how could this be happening nightmare unfolding before our very eyes. Before the world's eyes.
The children gather. Questions and fright all over their faces. Keith rushes up from his time on the treadmill. We're glued, sucked in to this horror on the screen. A feeling so helpless. Realizing to my heart's dismay that I can't shelter these children from this new reality. Something so terrible, so unbelievable for any parent to ever have to explain to a child.
We gather them close, tight in a united circle of prayer. Desperate, we realize it's the only way, the only thing to do now. Seeking the Comforter, pleading for the Father for protection. For these little ones to feel safe, protected, peace if only in the walls of this our home. Hearts pleading, emotion too hard to express for those whose lives were so senselessly taken. For their families. mourning, left behind in the ruins.
Darkness falls none too soon. A relief and excuse to stop the barrage of images. To say that it was enough. I need to escape it all. I leave the house. I need to breathe. I make the excuse of taking my oh so trivial now overdue library book back. I drive down these strange empty streets, my heart so full of sorrow, so empty, so never to be forgotten feeling. Security gone, even in this little community far away from those scenes of terror.
Country united, we turn to God again. We rebuild. Freedoms so easily forgotten, so taken for granted- these are the things we cling to.
Life goes on.
Or so it seems.
So happy that my children can be taught of these things, this week, reminded of it all. For the reverence shown at the little flag ceremony in front of their school last Friday. For Eliza's 8th grade class having the opportunity to visit the "Healing Field" in Sandy. Over 3,000 flags displayed, tagged with the names and stories of those who died. For the children in her class being able to help place those tags and feeling a special peace, a reverent holiness there.
But I do have hope for the future even as I remember and honor the past.
The tragedy, the terror that was that day. A day I'll never, ever forget.
I honor it all.