September 11, 2001

There are certain events in everyones lives that you not only remember but remember like they were yesterday. 9/11 was certainly one of them.

Driving down Route 13 after dropping my oldest off at PK. The radio comes on (107.9fm) with breaking news. I call my dad shortly after. He is on his way to a meeting and hadn't heard the news yet.

Drove home and flipped on the news. Sat on the couch in our living room, R. cuddled up in my lap in his teddy bear overalls and we sat for hours. R. never moved. Bethy, my dad, Auntie, Pat & Amy all call over the course of the next two hours.

I run out at noon to pick up A. There is talk between parents but I don't talk to anyone. I just load the boys back into the car and drive home. Want to watch more but how? A. is 4 1/2 and easily scared. What do I say to him to explain the horror unfolding on the screen?

We eat lunch. Left over pasta for the two of us. Oatmeal and papaya for R.

R. goes down for a nap and A. and I start to play with blocks. I had turned the TV on, volume down low, and sat him with his back to it as we built towers. Up he'd build and down they'd tumble. Over and over and over.

The phone rang. It was Uncle S. to tell us he was being deployed due to the happenings of the morning and would I get ahold of his father. I track down his dad, pass along the message and turn back to A.

He is watching the TV. Silent. Still. Staring at the screen. At the recap of the first tower collapsing and of the people running down the street.

I start to cry. My innocent little boy now saw the horror I didn't want him to see but couldn't tear myself away from.

"Have we been there?"

"Yes buddy, a few years ago".

"Why did that building fall down? Can our house fall down?"

He looks up. I should have shut the TV off. He watches as they recap the plane hitting. Oh my god. How do I deal with this. This is not a discussion I want to have with my 4 year old.

I call Chris. We talk for a bit and decide to tell A. bits and pieces in age appropriate ways.

I go back to building blocks. I explain that there were bad men that wanted to hurt other people and took the airplanes to do that. I tell him that it is OK to fly and that I don't think it will happen to any more planes. He is OK with it all. He asks about Uncle S. and I tell him that it is his job to keep us safe. A's mouth is smeared with red pasta sauce. He smiles and says he is glad Uncle S. is strong. His last question was if we knew anyone on the plane or in the building. I told him I didn't think so but I would keep calling Beth to make sure Katie was safe.

R. woke up covered in throw up. I cleaned up but realized when I brought the sheets downstairs that we were out of detergent.

Dinner that night was breakfast. Couldn't pull myself together enough to plan dinner. As I was about to tuck the boys into bed the phone rang in the kitchen, with the long tangled cord, rang. It was my mom, calling to tell me Linda, a friend and team mate growing up, was on flight 11. I traced the pattern on the wallpaper as she told me that her bridal shower had been the Sunday before and that her wedding was next month. I undid the white and blue stripped scrunchy in my hair and put it on my wrist. I fiddled with the invitation to a birthday party that was above the phone. I cried. I was thankful that A. asked me before I knew this if we knew anyone on the plane. Didn't seem as bad telling him I didn't think I did. Now it had hit close to home.

Tucked the boys in that night knowing that this was a day that would change the way in which we lived. The way everyone lived. It was one of the first time I really took the time to think about being "American". To think about what it meant.

Eight years later A. is 12 and has some memory of what has happened. I don't think he remembers that day but I think he has picked up bits and pieces of that day and realizes he was alive when it happened. R. has no memory of it and E. and L. weren't even on our radar yet. A. and I talked about it this morning. What happened, why it happened, who did it, who was on the plane, how I felt and how the country responded. R. listened and asked a few questions. Idiots and stupid heads was his choice of labels for the hijackers. I couldn't reprimand him for using the names that drive me crazy. How could I? He wasn't far from the truth.

9/11/09 was 3 days ago. I don't remember what we had for breakfast. I don't know what R. was wearing (although I could probably guess based upon his "usual" attire lately). I don't remember what we had for lunch, who called or if it was me or Chris that tucked the kids in that night.

It is amazing the details we remember during events that we will never forget. Simply amazing.