Liberty Postings

While I am always sad and reflective on 9/11, this anniversary is hitting me harder than normal.  Maybe it’s because the relationship to which I clung for comfort on that day and the days that followed no longer exists.  Maybe it’s because I was holding my six-week-old son while watching a replay of the second plane hitting the tower this morning.  Maybe it’s because I really miss my sister and wish she lived closer to her niece and nephew and I remember how scared I was when I couldn’t reach her in New York on that awful day.  I am definitely shedding a lot of tears today.

It took at least a year before I was not thinking about 9/11 every day.  I’m sure that living in D.C. and having all of my immediate family in D.C. or New York had something to do with that.  I drove by the crumbled Pentagon several times a week and got used to the military planes regularly circling the city.   And, even though it is no longer my first thought in the morning and my last thought at night, I still think about that day often.

I think about the heroism of the people on Flight 93.  It’s breathtaking.  I think about the firefighters and police officers.  I think about the people who decided to jump.  I think about the average citizens who ran back to help others.  I think about the chaos.  I think about the people who knew they were dialing to place the last phone call they would ever make.  I think about standing on a street corner in Arlington, just down the street from the Pentagon, three evenings after the attack and hugging, singing, and waving our flags.  I think about how I have so much for which to be grateful and how I should NEVER take it for granted.