In 1998, on Sept 11, my ex got us pulled over for an out headlight. He also, I discovered, had an expired license. and we had no insurance. And it was the first day of my maternity leave. The truck got impounded and we got a ride home (it was like 11pm). The next morning, as I was trying to sleep in, I went into labor. Sept 12, 1998 at around 4pm (I think) I gave birth to my son, Jon. He was my baby burrito, he was small, about 6lbs, and long, 22 inches long.
In 2001, as I was picking up the pieces of a broken marriage, September found me preparing for Jon’s birthday. He was turning 3 and had just gotten his first real haircut. Then our world was drastically changed.
I can never forget. I will never forget. But my focus that day and every anniversary since has been this; Lives were lost, but life moves on and we need to celebrate the lives still here, and not lose ourselves in the grief of those lost.
I will watch the vids tomorrow. I will weep for the lives cut short, for the bravery and sacrifice. I will be strengthened by the remembered feeling of community, and perhaps I’ll fire off an email to my uncle, who never emails us back. I will remind the children what occurred, remind them of the consequences of unrelenting hatred. And then I’ll prepare for a most important birthday.
My little boy, my wonderful son, will turn 14 on wed. And we will celebrate the life of such a wonderful young man who already stands four inches taller than me! We’ll have cake, play the PS3 and maybe watch movies.
We’ll never forget 9/11 but I think our focus will always be on 9/12
Take care all.