Remembering 9/11

I remember the whole day. I arrived in my office to learn that a plane had hit a building in New York. Standing at the coffee machine my co-workers and I thought why is a plane flying that low? Then the second plane hit. We turned on the news in the office and I’m fairly certain it did not get turned off until we left. I couldn’t reach my husband by phone who happened to be working near the Pentagon that day. The phones were jammed because everyone else was trying to call their loved ones. Rumors that the Baltimore beltway was going to be closed down forced my boss to call it a day. I picked up my daughter from daycare and sat in traffic. I remember trying to remain calm as I got my son off the bus. I didn’t want the kids to panic however that attempt was too late as he blurted out:”Mommy all the other mommies came to school and you didn’t. I was scared.” Later I found out that many parents went screaming (yes, that’s right) through the elementary school, running to their children. I understood their concern, but screaming through a school yelling, “My babies!” never did sit right with me.

The days and weeks after the attack were exhausting. Visiting my church and finding other people with the same blank expressions on their face; the news showing people wandering around New York looking for family members. I remember feeling sad, lonely and tired. And I was one of the lucky people that did not lose a loved one to the attack.

Lastly, about two weeks after the attack I sat in my living room, turned on my TV and purposefully set out to find a movie, a TV show, something that had nothing at all to do with real life. I wound up watching X-Men on HBO. That fit the bill. It’s odd how your mind can find things to help you cope. I wonder if X-Men is on tonight.

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