I rememeber

It's not hard for me to know how many years it's been since 9/11. I was 8.5 months pregnant with my first baby. The pictures of us getting ready to bring her home from the hospital have a TV on in the background, and the US is bombing Afg*anistan for the first time. Her birth was shrouded in fear, hope, pride, and questions.

In what kind of world would my daughter grow up?
Would her generation know fear of attack the way the Cold War left school children practicing for bomb raids?
Or would Americans remember, as we promised, and would we grow stronger as a result?

9 years later the answer is still unclear to me.

Our great nation has been at war for my daughter's entire life. We have managed to keep the war largely at bay, "over there," as we have for generations. And while I am so very thankful, I think that perhaps it has allowed us to forget.

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My mother in law called me to tell me what was happening, since we did not have a TV, and as soon as it sunk in I hung up on her.

I thought my dad was on that plane.

He often traveled to NY for business, very often in fact, and he had mentioned he was going out of town that day.

When he answered his phone, I breathed for the first time in minutes.

He was in a meeting--out of town, but not in NY.

The fear I felt when I thought my dad had been in danger, or dead, caused the pain I felt for those whose worst fears had come true to be magnified.

Someone did lose their dad. It just wasn't me.

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I am American through and through.

But I am not happy with what we have allowed 9/11 to make us as a nation.

While I believe, strongly, in equal rights, I do not believe in ignorance or apathy disguised as tolerance.

Be educated about what is going on in our country.

Remember how that day felt.

Never Forget. Never, Ever Forget.