September 11

The phone rang, startling me back to reality as I licked the peanut butter from the knife I had just used to make lunches for the kids. I could barely hear my mom on the other end of phone over Kaitlyn's latest rendition of “Who Let the Dogs Out”. Her siblings were running around the house anxious for another average day at school. “Summer, we're being attacked!” Not sure I heard her right I said “wait, who, what, where?”, all those years of journalism classes really paid off as I remembered to ask at least 3 of the 5 W's. “We are....America. Turn on the news.”

I ran to the television set and watched in horror as the play by play unfolded before my eyes. I sank into the covers on my bed, pulling the comforter up over my lap and I clung to it as if somehow it would shield me from the harsh reality that was facing our country. My kids clamored to my side anxiously wondering why we weren't getting ready to make the daily trek to the school. I gathered them close and held them and wondered what would be next.

“All circuits are busy, please try your call again later”. Of course everyone was trying to contact their loved ones and I wasn't surprised, after all this was life changing. It was the first time as a mom that I had to face the reality that nothing was within my control. No matter how much I tried to protect my children there was that element of evil in the world that could not be controlled. I didn't know anyone that was in immediate danger, but I wept. I wept for the lose of lives and for the freedom that we had taken for granted. I cried for the rescue workers who were fighting a perilous fight. I cried for the families who had nonchalantly waved goodbye as they left for work that morning. I wept for the memories that were forever marred with sorrow and for the memories that would never be made.

I had grown up hearing the same question over and over in history classes, “where were you when Kennedy was shot?” It was the question we were continually told to ask our parents in an attempt to make the historical event more of a reality in our innocent lives. I knew that my children would grow up asking the question that was so eloquently asked in the song by Allen Jackson, “where were you when the world stopped turning?”

Peace be with the families, both the survivors and those that were lost. Peace be with all of us as we Remember and never forget.