I was only 4 when 9/11 happened, but I remember it. I remember the tv coverage and the graphic images. I remember knowing what was going on, but I didn't understand. As I've gotten older, I thought I grew to understand. Boy was I wrong.
Today, as I worked the 3E halls of the assistive living building, I watched resident after resident break into tears while watching the memorial coverage of that tragic day. All eyes were glued to that screen, and all eyes were shining with memories. Although many of my residents have a lot of memory challenges, almost all could remember exactly where they stood on that tragic morning. Some knew friends or relatives affected by those crashes. Some just cried with sheer compassion. There was one lady, distinctively, who sat towards the back of the dining room crying silent buckets worth. I went over to her and held her as she told me her story.
"Mom, I might never see you again. Tell my wife I love her."
Those were the words her son said to her from the building directly beside one of the 2 towers.
"It was the worst day of my life." She choked out.
I cried with her.
I may never understand fully the true depth of what happened that day; but that sweet little old lady that I hugged with the red nose and soggy tissue sure hit me in the gut. 9/11/01, 15 years ago today, was a day of tragedy. Of heartache. Of unknowing. Of worry. Of tears and loss. Of terrorism. But it was also a day of triumph. Of heroes. Of sacrifice. Of strength. Of a country pulling together and standing tall. Of God showing up in the middle of the mess. It was a day that affected hundreds of thousands almost instantaneously; but it will affect the hearts and minds of millions for many, many years to come. For as long as we cry for the fallen and with those whose loved ones fell- the memory of that tragic day will never be lost; and for as long as we can praise God in His sovereignty and seek God with our future- this country's strength will never be questioned.
