I have been reminiscing the September 11th terrorists attacks this past week. Each day I've been looking on the news websites to see the new memorials that opened last Sunday. I've found in the past that it was hard for me to fully comprehend just how tragic it really was since I didn't personally know anybody who died. But I think as each year passes I come to find how precious life truly is.
Where was I ten years ago?
I was beginning my 6th grade as a home-schooler. I remember my mom dropping my brother off at seminary at 6:30am and when she came home she was crying and made us turn the TV on to watch the news. I knew something bad was happening, but my 12 year old brain knew nothing of terrorists, or even that we had World Trade Centers. I remember watching the news for days, interested in what was happening on the other side of the country, yet not knowing how to fully feel anything. I had never really tasted death in my life.
Where was I last year?
With my husband at our in-laws. Late into the evening, we were watching on Youtube about the "Falling Man." There had been an article posted about the falling man right after 9/11. Someone had taken a photograph of a man falling from one of the WTC and was trying to investigate and search out which family he belonged to. It is hard to imagine that real, actual people decided that falling from a skyscraper and landing to their death was better than burning alive. It would be hard for me to make either decision.
As a newlywed of barely a month and a half last September, I was grateful that I had my true love in my arms and that each of us still had a bright future together.
Where was I September 11th, 2011?
I was home with my family. Both families. My sweetheart and my darling girl. My parents and my siblings. That evening me and Jonathan watched a movie called Flight 93 that came out after the attacks to honor the people on Flight 93 who crashed in Pennsylvania. I had seen it before, but this time it made me think harder. The movie portrayed real people who had children waiting at home for them, from infants to gradeschool aged kids. Parents who would never see their children again. Husbands and wives who would never see each other or their loved ones. I would hold Lydia in my arms and look at her and try to imagine her without a mom or a dad. Then look at Jonathan, and picture life with just me and Lydia. I don't know how I would do it.
I guess what really got me thinking is that, there were SO many innocent peoples' lives taken, just like that.. in an instant. That, people got up and went to work without fear, not knowing they would not come home that evening. That, because the buildings were so tall, people above and below where the plane crashed, were stuck and couldn't get out. That, not just two large towers fell, but thousands of people died inside. Firefighters, policemen, and rescue workers who came on scene to help, were helplessly trapped inside the rubble. That, what I see on the news, youtube, or a recreated movie, isn't just made up. It's real.
It has really taken me 10 years, a marriage of one year, and a baby, to finally comprehend what it {might} feels like to be there that day. Although, I will probably never know. I can't know. But I can imagine the pain. It's hard for me to think of life without my daughter or husband who give me so much happiness in life.
When you look at what you got, you realize life isn't as bad as it could be.
I have so much to be thankful for.
No comments:
Post a Comment