I knew opening Facebook today that most posts would make mention of this day. A day to remember. A day to respect those who have given the utmost sacrifice, the families. A day to stop and be silent for there are no words that can describe. At least for me. I think on this day and nothing can form in my mind.
A friend of mine posted today on Facebook what she was doing 11 years ago. It started one of those run on posts where everyone shared what they were doing. It’s that type of day. A day to remember and not forget.
This day is a strange day for me. This is 9-11. This is the day that changed our country. I know this. I feel this. It breaks my heart. But, 9-11 changed for me 29 years ago. That was the day when I first got a glimpse of my precious little girl.
That day 29 years ago was a day to remember. I was alone. I had a dear friend whom I had met overseas with me. She was my coach through labor and delivery. She laughed with me and cried with me and held my hand when it needed held. Her husband watched my older daughter. He got their girls up in the wee hours of the morning to come to my house and watch my daughter. They were family that I didn’t have close to me.
They had to do this because my dear hubby was on a ship serving our country. He was continents away from me and would not know until after the fact that his baby girl was born.
In thinking of this day my heart wonders what emotion to show. Respect and remembrance is what usually comes out. This is because I love our country. I love being a flag waving person who cries when talking about it. I love our military, for I know what it is like to serve (as all spouses of military personnel serve also). I know the sacrifice that comes with a decision to serve in the military.
What was I doing eleven years ago? I was in California, and getting up to take a birthday girl to get her driver’s license on her 18th birthday. We thought about not going, but since we had an appointment we went to the DMV. We got into the building and started standing in line, only about 4 people ahead of us and after 2 more fell into line behind us, we realized the doors locked and the parking lot was filled with Highway Patrol men and women. The usual process is the people taking the tests go out individually and the parents wait in the waiting room. Not that day. Everyone taking the test went out in a group, they all took off in a quick rotation. The parents all gathered in the portico waiting for their child to return. We walked them back into the office after a quick test. They all passed. They all got into the passenger side as we each drove off to our homes to watch events.
We had planned a dinner party for that evening. The restaurant called us to see if we were still planning on coming. We said no, then called them back and said we would be there. The streets were quiet, we half expected to see tumbleweeds rolling down the empty streets. But, we were determined no terrorist was going to ruin an 18th birthday celebration.
Yes, it is a weird day for our family. But, as I listen to stories on the news and as I have learned in my life, the beauty is in living. Taking the crisp blue autumn skies and thanking our Creator for them Reading posts that wish happiness and joy for another year of living. Reading posts celebrating not only my daughter, but her new-born son. Proof that life goes on. Life continues and the best way to respect the memory of those lost is to live our life, love our life and love our families, those who are family by blood and those who are family by our hearts.
Thanks for stopping by today. As always, DAF