I remember

I was driving down the road a couple weeks ago. The girls had the radio on, the kids were chattering in the back seat. The sun was shining. We were hurrying somewhere. Normal stuff. The radio hosts started talking about 9-11 and the fact that we were coming up on the 5th anniversary of that horrible day.

Five years. I can't believe it. It seems like a short time ago and an eternity ago. When ever I hear about it I get that feeling in my stomach ~ the something is wrong, something big, sick to my stomach feeling. I feel tears in my eyes threatening to spill over, most of the time they don't but that gut visceral reaction is still there. Our world forever changed. I know many others feel the same. Shannon at Rocks in my dryer is hosting a memory board for 9-11 and as I have read a few of the posts there is a common theme. The shock. The fear. The wishing for things to be like they were before, the desire to scoop up your own child and keep them safe, to make the world safe for their future. Theirs and ours and all the world's children.

Like many mom's across the US I was making breakfast. The TV was on, although it was mostly background noise. I was in the kitchen and busy doing our morning stuff. My MIL called, are you watching the TV she asked. I told her it was on but I wasn't really watching. Watch she said. I looked over and saw the airplane in the tower. How weird I thought. How did the pilot make such a huge mistake? It looked small, that airplane sticking out of a building. So small but it had such a big impact. Then the next plane hit. What?!? I called my parents in CA and woke them up, told them to turn on the TV. All day I watched. The third plane hit the pentagon and I wondered if this atrocity would ever end. An attack on our soil, the promised land. A land where we will be protected if we are obedient. There was a feeling of numbness and disbelief. Feelings of fear, and shock and sadness.

I wanted to turn the TV off, to spare my children and myself those images. I couldn't though. I had to watch. I wanted to stop it. I got a tiny glimpse of what it was like for Moroni to watch the distruction of his people and there was nothing he could do.

Over the next weeks we heard many sad stories. Also many stories of courage and faith. Over the past years we have seen people rebuild, rebuild their lives, their hope. Are our borders safe now? I don't know, I think maybe not. I am grateful for those brave soldiers who are doing their best to try and make them safe.

Interestingly 9 months later, in June, I gave birth to a baby boy. A baby we had been trying to have for a long time. When we were in the hospital one of the nurses told me they were swamped, they had been SO busy for weeks now. She said it was a post 9-11 baby boom. People reached for each other, wanted to affirm life, wanted joy to continue.

This day I will think of the men and women who gave their lives that day and in the days since and feel gratitude for them, for their courage. I hope for a peaceful future for my boy; but if that's not the reality then I hope he will stand up and fight for freedom. I hope he will have the courage to do the right thing, to defend our constitution, our freedom and our families. I hope he will trust in God.

....Most of all I hope for peace. And I will remember.