That Day

I'm sitting here in stunned silence with Sydney, watching footage from the tragedy of 10 years ago today. I have a sick feeling in my stomach. I cannot begin to imagine the horror those people endured.

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That day Sydney was 10 years old, in the 5th grade, Thomas 5, not yet in school, and Mia a toddler of 2.

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I was off on that day, having just gotten home from dropping Sydney off at school. I turned on the TV, something I rarely did in the mornings. I don't know what made me turn it on. My eyes were met with footage of what was happening in New York. I remember, like everyone else, thinking "what a terrible accident." And then I watched footage of the 2nd plane hitting, and I was aware of the magnitude of what had just happened.

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I remember somehow making it through that day, taking care of Thomas and Mia, my eyes glued to the TV. I kept my babies close that day, acutely aware of the many things we take for granted every day.
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And I remember when my sweet 10 year old walked through the front door that day after she got off the bus, tears streaming down her face, looking at me and asking, "Mommy, why would someone do that??" I remember it like it was yesterday.

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Sydney was to have dance class that day. I remember the call from Miss Jeanne, the teacher, saying that she was cancelling classes for the evening. Everyone needed to be with their families that day.

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I kept my babies close that day.