Aside from waking up earlier than usual, today started out just like any other day. But it didn't take long to be reminded that this was September 11th -- and that eight years ago, it had also started out as just another day. Well, thinking back, I guess this isn't quite true. September 11, 2001, was a big day in our household, and I was up earlier than usual then, too, getting the house ready for the First Day Coffee I was hosting at our house for my daughter's first day of preschool. I woke up worrying about how my daughter would do in preschool, and hoping I would make it through the day.
It was not until I was in the car driving to Noah's Bagels that I heard the news on the radio: an airplane had crashed into one of the twin towers. I pictured a small Cessna, and hoped nobody had been injured in what must have been an accident. After picking up bagels, I went to the grocery store, and overheard people in line talking about ... something about a passenger jet crash ... a jumbo jet, full of people ... the twin towers ... oh my god. In disbelief, I asked the checker to confirm -- was it a passenger jet that had crashed into the twin towers? Yes, she said, scanning my orange juice and half-and-half. A part of my brain seemed to go numb, and I suddenly transformed into an automaton.
Got the groceries. Went home. Turned on the tv. Can't believe it. Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god. Made regular coffee. Made decaf coffee. Sliced bagels. Kids waking up. Turned off the tv. Can't talk about this in front of the kids. Want to cry. Can't cry in front of the kids. Husband waking up. Want to talk about this, but can't. Still wanting to cry. Walk son to kindergarten. Come home. Take daughter to preschool. She seems fine. Rush home to get ready. Turn on tv. Still can't believe it. Doorbell rings. Turn off tv. Put on a smile.
We had a nice little gathering of parents that day, and we all tried to focus on talk about our kids, and not the giant elephant in the room. The news was still just trickling out at that time, and I don't think any of us realized the magnitude of the tragedy ... yet. After everybody left, I called my husband -- who works next to a federal building -- to come home now.
Cry. Time to pick up the kids. Put on a smile. Hug my kids. Try not to cry.
Shock and sorrow. The tragedy touched us, even out here on the left coast. The whole country seemed to come together. For a moment, we felt united. Then the shock and sorrow gave way to shock and awe, and here we are, eight years later. Just another day for most of us -- but certainly not for those who lost loved ones on September 11, 2001. When I hug my kids today, I will remember those who can no longer do this simple act because of the 9/11 attacks. And try not to cry.
