I remember . . .

I remember where I was on this day 11 years ago.  I was in law school getting ready to go to class.  We were all gathered in the student lounge talking, sipping our morning caffeine of choice, the news playing in the background - a typical morning before classes.  Then the news abruptly switched and we learned of the first plane hitting the World Trade Center.  I remember the disbelief.  I remember thinking "This can't really be what they are saying happened."  And I remember on the live feed watching the second plane hit and the entire room gasping. I remember the silence as we watched in disbelief.  I remember thinking I was not going to make my class.  I remember classes canceled and other professors that insisted that classes continue.   I remember the somber mood around the common areas of the law school that day.  I remember panicked calls to my parents trying to see if my brothers (both living and working in NY at the time) were okay.  I remember not being able to get through to my parents for what seemed like hours as the phone lines were crazy with frantic callers all across the country.  I remember trying to call my brothers direct knowing it would be impossible to get through.  I remember seeing professors that so intimidated me in classes, unbelievably distraught and their faces drawn with grief.

After the initial shock, I remember the anger.  I remember being ready to go enlist and ready to kick some terrorist you-know-what.  I remember talks of next targets and pre-emptive strikes and whether there would be another draft.  I remember crying a lot, empathy for all those who lost loved ones that day and for those courageous and brave people on United Airlines Flight 93 who sacrificed themselves to save others.  I cannot to this day fathom the courage it must have taken those people on that flight to do what they did. I also remember the insecurity after the attacks wondering if there were other plots already in motion of which we had yet heard or learned.  I also remember the families.  I remember children that have grown up without fathers and mothers, brothers that lost sisters and sisters that lost brothers, parents that lost children, wives that lost husbands and husbands that lost wives.


I remember all those things and on days like today I also remember how I am blessed.  I am blessed to live in this country where I can worship whom I choose, and where others sacrifice their lives to keep me and my family safe. Where I, a woman, am free to work, free to speak my mind and free to become whatever I want to become; where my children will grow up with boundless opportunities if they put in the effort.  I am blessed to have a wonderful, loving family, even if I might complain sometimes.  I am blessed to have children that drive me crazy at moments, to have a husband that can annoy me with his dedication to watching his teams play rather than helping with housework, to have a job that is so demanding, to have so many constraints on my time and so many obligations, responsibilities and commitments that sometime seem so burdensome.  I am blessed because I am alive to experience these things.  And though I may take things in my life for granted from time to time, I will never forget . . .