I was in fifth grade in 2001, on the morning of September 11th my mom called with some excuse on why we were not to turn on the TV. After getting to school my friend Jillian talked about planes hitting buildings and world war III. After asking if she was talking about a show she had just watched, she insisted it had just happened in real life. I was confused. When we got to the classroom Mrs. Cobb let us watch the news. I was still confused. But remember being worried for my mom, she was at work, there was no way (in my mind) that she could have known what was happening. Little did I know the unusual phone call that morning was the attempt of a mother trying to prevent her kids from feeling alone and afraid. I was too young to understand the severity of everything going on, it all seemed unreal. It was the first time my hart reached out to people I had never met. As young kids do, I probably did not talk about it with as much reverence as I do now. Each year I find myself reflecting on what happened 12 years ago today.
Last May while visiting New York we spent time at the 9/11 memorial, it brought a lump to my throat and tears to my eyes, as it does now while I write this post. There are truly no words, just undesirable emotion.
This day will forever bring reverence for those that were lost, respect for those who sacrificed, and gratitude for the family and friends in my life.
This day will never be forgotten.