I happened to be working at a Baby Gap in Canton, Ohio. I was in the back stocking some clothes on 9/11 when a woman by the name of Anne (I remembered her name just now) came to the back room and said that a plane just crashed into the World Trade Center. She was older than I, a Mom and currently pregnant. I was just 18, lived with my parents and was dying to get out of that town. Yet for the brief moments as we listened on the radio, we had a lot in common. I left a short while later as the mall was desolate, and as I walked out, the stores I passed were frantically closing their doors. I think it was then that I realized how serious it was.
I cannot imagine that day for the people who were actually in it. I shudder to think what they went through, what their families were going through as they were still searching for the victims, and as rescue workers and volunteers were sorting through rubble. I’m sickened and still amazed at what we all went through as a country as most of us watched as yet another plane crashed into the North tower. We were a country in great distress as we watched everything unfold completely out of our control.
I was fortunate enough to be 500 miles away from New York City on that day. I was so very lucky to be unaffected physically and be in the comforts of my completely undamaged home on that day. I am even more fortunate to not personally know anyone who died on that day, and not to have a family member disappear without ever really knowing exactly how they died. I contributed only patriotism, prayer and hope.
Nearly ten years later I am reminded just how lucky I am. I look at my beautiful baby and loving husband and I have to thank God for the life I live. Although I’m no stranger to tragedy, in reality, I’ve suffered the kind that comes from getting older like losing my Dad at the young age of 55. Yet still, I have no right to complain about my life.
On Sunday as we remember the 10 years that have passed since that horrific day, take a moment to think of all the victims and their families. Although they have tried to move on, a piece of the heart will always ache. They have, at best, learned how to simply deal with the aftermath of that day. Then, as you go about your day, hug your kiddos a little tighter, hold your spouse a lot longer and remember how lucky you really are. Your bills may be stacking up, your body may not be where you would like it to be and although you may spend part of your day wiping someones butt, you are lucky. You are here and you are loved. And what more could any Mama (chic or not) ask for?
What is your 9/11 story like? Please leave your comments below.