"Don't turn on the TV. It's bad, really bad.." I think in some ways he wanted to shield me from it, but needed to share it with someone at the same time. Confused at his odd statement, I immediately turned on the TV to see those first terrifying images. I went through the mental process that we all do when bad stuff happens. Maybe it was just an accident and everyone will be rescued soon. Maybe this isn't even real. When the footage of the second plane began to air, it started to dawn on me that this was not an accident, but an act of pure evil. A sick feeling hit the pit of my stomach as I began to inventory all my family and loved ones. Is anyone traveling today? Is anyone in New York? My sister had been in New York and toured the World Trade Center just 10 days earlier. I made a few calls just to calm my fears and try to make sense of the senseless by talking through it. I found myself instinctively putting my hand on my belly just to make sure that my baby was still moving, because the rest of the world seemed to be collapsing around me.
Although reeling from the shocking images, I got myself ready and drove to work at the 10-story office building in central Phoenix that I worked. There were some pressing issues on some important deals. Not a soul was working though. All those important things that HAD to be done that day, suddenly felt completely inconsequential. Someone had a TV on their desk, and all my co-workers were crowded in front of it with looks of utter disbelief that was quickly turning to disgust and anger. As it became increasingly apparent that this was a massive pre-meditated attack on America and not yet knowing the scope, the building was evacuated and we were all sent home as a precaution.
Pregnancy does a lot of things to women, not the least of which is making them a bit more emotionally vulnerable. I am an optimist by nature and do not tend to live my life based on fear, but on that day, I realized that the world that my unborn son would be born into would be different than the one that I knew. I cried for that loss. There was an innocence that was lost for my generation who had yet to feel the pain of war. Sure there were conflicts in the world, but that happen in distant countries over seas, not in my United States of America.
I'm not going to be melodramatic and try to pretend that I can comprehend even a fraction of what that day felt like to those who actually lost family members and friends in such a malicious, senseless, and evil way. Or for those who were close enough to feel the fear, smell the smoke, and witness the destruction. I do know that I long for the aftermath of September 11, where if even for a fleeting time, people came together and cherished what is most important. Everyone just wanted to reach out and somehow ease the pain of those suffering. Patriotism and generosity were apparent everywhere you turned, and bipartisanship and pettiness all but disappeared. It is sad to me that it takes a tragedy of this magnitude for people to get to that place where love, compassion, and concern for their fellow men prevail. It was a great lesson to me that I hope I will never forget.
Today, as I was getting in my car after an early morning work out, I wondered for a moment what the chimes eminating from the Catholic Church on the corner were for. Then I turned on to my street to see the row of American Flags on every house. I remembered the date and offered a silent prayer for the people who still suffer the pain of loss from this day, for our nation, and for our continued freedom.
Where were you and what impact did it have in your life?
No comments:
Post a Comment