I always greet each September with a heart full of mixed emotions. Crisp air, cool nights, the start of school, memories of 9/11, finding out I was pregnant with Ella, finding out Max had serious life-threatening problems (in utero). I feel like I am holding my breath a little until October 1. I know its not rational, its not even conscious most of the time, it just is.
One day this summer, after a day at camp, Ella said to me, "Mama, did you know that one time crazy people took over planes and crashed them into buildings?" It was my "Oh my goodness, 9/11 will not be a reality for her, it will be a history lesson." It is sort of like the way we (my generation) feels about the Kennedy and Martin Luther King assassinations. We are impacted by them but not in the same way as our parents. Kennedy was assassinated on my mother's 13th birthday. The first hand experience shaped her differently than knowledge of it from textbooks shaped me.
Of course, her sweet little protected and nonviolent mind couldn't understand it. Just as on this day, 8 years ago and on this day, today. I still don't understand it. I probably never will understand. However, I do know, I will never forget.
1 comment:
I refer to my youngest cousins and their offspring as the post-9/11 ones. Let's hope we can go another generation or two without this kind of defining moment.
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