Sept. 11, 2002 ~ There are many who will write
wonderful, moving entries about this most significant day. Don't expect that here. I don't have it in me. Oh, don't get me wrong, this has affected me deeply. But what can I say about today that has not already been said in many different ways, in words far more eloquent than mine? Not much.
Those first days, a year ago, were filled with fear. For all of us, for loved ones, for our animals, and especially for my Soldier Boy. I can't begin to tell you how worried I was for him. Literally worried sick. But his planned deployment to Afghanistan did not happen, though it is once again scheduled. We are hoping that plans will change and he will not have to go. If he does go, we will have to make the best of it. But I will worry, believe me, I will worry. I worry now. Who decided that people should jump out of airplanes, anyway? Well.
There have been some special programs on TV these past few days, and we have watched some of them with great interest. Last night's show about the firefighters was especially sad, and it caught us, took us by surprise, drew us in. The three of us, Husband, College Boy and I, stood in the living room, all on our way to do other things, but stopped in our tracks by what we heard. We stood and listened for quite a while. As we started to sit down to dinner, College Boy said, "Should we really be watching this? I mean, maybe tomorrow, but... isn't this too much... too depressing?" And I had to admit that he was right. Part of me wanted to watch, just as part of me wanted to keep watching, watching... last year. But last year we finally had to turn off the TV, and last night we did the same. The news was too much, as well, with all the reports of credible threats, all the possible terrible things that might happen. I don't want to be afraid. I don't want to live that way.
This morning Susan and I walked, as planned, but I'm not sure we observed the moment of silence at the proper time, mostly because we weren't sure when it was. But we did pause at what we guessed was "the" time, and went to the gym's lobby to watch a few moments of TV. A woman there said, too loudly, "But we have to get on with our lives! Let's just stop all this!" And of course we do have to go on, but I think many of us would have liked a bit more silence and space to mourn or reflect... at that particular moment. So we had our quiet moments later, at a noontime church service. We remembered, each in our own way. Tears were shed, prayers were said.
I did not feel afraid.
This year, as last, I wonder what Soldier Boy is doing now. Last year his base was on lockdown, on high alert, and it was a couple of days before he could call us. This year I wish I could call him, just to hear his voice, to see what he's doing, what his mood is, but I hesitate to call. He works such strange hours, often going out on night jumps or patrols, that I never know when to call. I hate to wake him. But my thoughts are with him, with both my boys, with everyone I love. And yes, we are getting on with our lives, but that doesn't mean that we don't take a moment or an hour or a day to remember.
That's today for me... remembrance, honor, respect.
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8:35 PM Soldier Boy called! We talked for a long time. The base had a brief ceremony this morning, in honor of this day, and then... it was business as usual.
What a difference a year makes.
Anyway, it was sure good to hear his voice. Even if he has a cold or allergies or whatever. I wish he'd take his vitamins. Shoot... do I sound like a mom or what?
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