What to say? This is a tough day. Six years ago, I jumped out of bed cheerfully, the awfulness of morning sickness beginning to subside (I was about 11 weeks pregnant with Ryan), planning to watch Martha Stewart's tv show (how domestic!). I flipped on the tv just in time to see the second plane hit the tower. Some time later, I was anxiously calling my mom to make sure that my dad wasn't working at the Pentagon that day (he wasn't). I tried to stay calm, as I had a growing baby to think about. As the days passed, that baby was all I could think about: how could I protect him, how could I ever explain this terrible day to him?
For a while it actually appeared as if our country would fight this terrible evil.
Six years later and I'm profoundly disappointed that bigger, taller, prouder towers have not been erected on the site of the World Trade Center. The Bad Guys are still out there and they want us dead. Again, I find myself wondering how I can explain this to my children (who thankfully haven't asked about it).
In honor of Tim Maude, my mom's first cousin and best childhood playmate, who was killed at the Pentagon on 9/11/2001.