8 Years.

Friday, September 11, 2009

America was changed that day. Lives were lost- lives were changed. I do not know anyone who was not changed in some way by the events of that day. This may very well be my generations version of Pearl Harbor- but we watched it live.

I have no way to talk about it that would make any sense to anyone. As a mother who would of course love to protect my kids from any evil/wrong doing/malevolence I struggle with the explanation of it. I can't explain it to myself let alone in terms that would make sense to a five year old- with regards to the why. They will never know a world without the airline security I have grown accustomed to. They will never see the Twin Towers on the way into Manhattan except for in archived images.

What they will know is a country that can band together remarkably well despite our differences. They will know that their father would give of himself to protect others- they will know how grateful I am for all who gave of themselves to help others- they will know that love and hope will and can overcome all of the hate in the world.

My children were not alive for 9/11 and I was not tangibly touched by it. My husband was not one of the hundreds of fireman who rushed to save the lives of individuals trapped who's first thought was not about getting the hell away- but getting there- to help- to save. But he could have been. I would have been crushed. But proud. As I am proud of him and what he does. I am so thankful for men and women like that. Every time I hear a siren I say a prayer for G-d to protect them- a prayer that they know how thankful I am for them.

My heart goes out to the children, spouses, and families of those lost. They gave and give too. They stood behind their loved one and supported them. They will not be forgotten.

So thank you. Thank you to all fire, police, medical, and soliders who give so much.


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