Today I'm going to diverge from my usual ramblings about my kids and the creatures that live in my house. Today, as we near the ten-year anniversary of 9-11, I'm going to share a snapshot of my experiences and reflect on what that day means to me as a mother.
September 11,2001 started as any other. I remember looking out of the window of my Cleveland home, thinking what a lovely sunny day it was. I was nine months pregnant with my first child. The anticipation of becoming a new mother and holding my baby filled me with joy. I felt her kick within me.
Then the telephone rang. It was my husband.
"Turn on the TV," he said. "A plane just crashed into one of the twin towers in New York City."
That was the beginning of the nightmare. I sat down on the sofa and turned on the news. A plane had just crashed into the Pentagon. I knew this was no accident. Something very wrong was happening. I watched in horror as the second plane slammed into the remaining tower. That's when I began to cry. I cried for the lives that were lost. I cried for the families- the mom and dads, the sons and daughters of those people who died. I cried for our country. And I cried for my unborn daughter.
I didn't know in the days or weeks that followed what the world would look like for my child. When I finally held her in my arms, I prayed that she would not have to live in fear. I prayed for a world of peace.
Now, ten years later, we live in a world that has been changed by 9-11. We don't live in fear, but we are more cautious - more guarded. We realize that we are not invincible. We also do not take for granted the freedom we hold so precious.
As a mother, I want my children to know that no matter what hardships may befall us, we can still choose to stand tall and rise above them. I want them to value their freedom and never become complacent. I want them to be proud to be American. These are the lessons from 9-11. These are the thoughts that we must hold close to our hearts as we continue to rise from the ashes.
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