Today is the tenth anniversary of the terrorist attack on our country. I considered not mentioning the tragedy on my blog because I like this to be a happy place. After doing some soul searching, (yes I have a soul) I changed my mind.
As I watched the events unfold on television in my bedroom, in my house, in Prairie Village, Kansas my boss called and said our offices would be closed. As the second tower fell, I knew it was no accident. There was a need to be with someone that day, and at that time I did not have a special someone. I rallied with my friend Sheri Bell, who was home on maternity leave with Jacob. We were glued to the television set all day.
Weeks would pass and there was evidence of the impact from the infamous 9/11. Economic problems, revisions in policies, and a general fear of the enemy. I had no idea at the time, but in Ohio, Amanda and Mitchell were about to lose their mother to an unforeseen medical mistake. I would lose my job prior to getting paid the commissions I had earned for future sales. Ten years ago, all these events occurred and ten years ago everyone was deeply sad.
Life goes on, new lives are created, but it is important not to lose sight of the past. When I saw this post on another blog I follow, it put the whole day into perspective for me.
"I was in Building 1. I sustained third degree burns on the majority of my body including my face. I was carried by strangers down the stairs.
We confronted ten young, brave men who walked up to their deaths. Each of them terrified yet determined to save lives. One firefighter, the first to see me, saw the struggle that people were having and grabbed me up and carried me the rest of the flight down and out. He gave me oxygen and talked about his family.
While I live daily with nearly 90 of my body with third degree burns, I have no hair, am missing all the fingers on my left hand, several toes, am dependant on oxygen constantly and a wheelchair most times, I wouldn’t change my situation in a moment.
Why? Because that young man was a father to seven. Seven children that he supported. A wonderful wife.
And because of my burns, he gathered me in his arms and carried me to safety, he sought out medical assistance…and he survived.
We see each other several times a year as families. I see his children, his wife we gather and eat and drink and talk and laugh.
But every 9/11 He and I join together alone and remember. We talk of that day. We speak of friends and colleagues lost.
And that is what we did today. We cried. We laughed. We hugged.
After reading that, how could any American just sweep it under the rug as if today was just any other day? Impossible! Despite taking the kids to two different birthday parties today, I want to be sure that the tenth anniversary of the 9/11 attacks are remembered. Forever.
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