9/11 Never Forgotten

I was supposed to work that day, but something was off.  I was not feeling well so I called in sick.  I kept my youngest home with me as he wasn’t feeling well either.  We took a trip to the doctor’s office to make sure he just had a cold, he had just turned 3 at the end of August.  The doctor prescribed an antibiotic for the ear infection but the rest was just a cold.  I took my boy to Wal-mart to fill his prescription and buy him a “sick present”.  My mother in law was working so we stopped to say hello, and that is when she told me that a plane hit the first tower.  No one would know that we were under attack for another 45 minutes.  I took my boy back home got him all snuggled in for a day of rest, gave him his meds, and turned the TV on.  We were going to watch a movie when the 2nd plane was seen heading into the towers.  I sat on my couch completely stunned.  This was all unfolding 300 miles from my home.  I panicked and called my husband to make sure he was ok.  I asked him if he thought I should go pick up our oldest son who was 6 from school.  We decided it was a good idea.  I got back with both of my babies safe with me, and I called my mom in California.  For the next few weeks, I had panic attacks just sending my kids to school.  Police were everywhere and I did not want my kids to be away from me.  I had to go to work, and life had to go on.  I cried for days, could not sleep for weeks.  My kids were not allowed to even go outside without me.  I could not stop thinking of the people trapped in the Towers, the people at the Pentagon, and the other plane in Pennsylvania.  My husband had only been out of the service for less than 3 years, and I had been out for 6.  We thought about our friends who were still serving.  We thought about our family, we discussed leaving so many times.  Where would we go, another state?  Another country?   In the days that followed being a paramedic with 2 local agencies, my husband volunteered to go help.  So many from the local area had volunteered and some had even gone on their days off.  He opted to stay and help collect supplies.  For weeks they sent supplies, bandages, medicine, water, food, whatever they could get their hands on in truck loads to New York City.  This would be our contribution.  He worked for days on end in the first few weeks with many of his co-workers gathering, packing, and shipping supplies.  My oldest son was scared that his dad would get hurt going to help and had nightmares about it.  So my husband felt he was better help here with the supplies.  You could not help but feel the overwhelming sense of country around town.  People were nice to each other, and we came together as a country.  We all helped however we could from the closest towns, to the furthest ones.  We took care of each other and leaned on each other.  Scholarships were setup for the children who lost parents.  We thought about the kids left behind suffering with the loss of their parents.  It reminded all of us that regardless we are all human, but most importantly we are all Americans.  I think about the children that are still living life with the greatest loss they suffered that day, and wonder how they are surviving.  Most of them would be in high school through their senior year of college.  My kids were 3 and 6 at the time, so I think of the kids that were their ages on a daily basis.  I think about the ones who are freshman in college this year.  The kids starting their sophomore year of High School, and all the kids in between, how are they?  What are their dreams for the future?  I think about the families of the soldiers that have been killed in the days and years that followed.  I think about how our country will forever be changed by this day.  Today is the 12th anniversary of that day so today, like every day of my life, I say THANK YOU.  Your sacrifices will never be forgotten. 

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