I cannot believe it's been 10 years since that horrible day, September 11th 2001. I was only five years old when it happened, and people always assume that I was too young to remember it or understand it. But I do remember, and I did understand.
I had just started Kindergarten. I was in the morning session, 9:00-12:00. I remember coming home, skipping up my driveway in my denim dress. It was nice outside, so I wanted to know if one of my friends at the time could come over and play.
But, my dad was home when I got home. That was weird. He works in Boston, a good hour away, so it was way too early for him to be home on a normal day.
"Hi, Daddy!" I said. I could tell immediately from the look on his face that something was wrong. He was totally disconnected, staring at the TV in shock and disbelief.
I turned to see what the heck he was watching--only to see the footage of the plane crashing into the second tower, and hearing the shock and panic of the newsman's voice. My eyes widened in disbelief and I burst into tears, because though I didn't know exactly what was happening, I knew it was bad.
My dad explained to be as simply as he could that there are good people and bad people. And sometimes, for reasons we don't know, these bad people want to hurt good people. And I understood that all these innocent people were dying, and that the country was being attacked.
I remember some of the footage directly after too. My parents never tried to shelter me from the news and the stories. A lot of tears were shed, and they're still being shed on this day 10 years later. I see the stories about kids my age and even younger who lost parents that day, and it just breaks my heart.
Especially when people I know could've lost parents that day.
I know a girl (we used to be friends, but we aren't close anymore) who's mom was in the first building, because she was on business for work. She was on a low floor, so she was a lucky one that got out, and she did a lot of work on the scene, aiding others and helping people get out.
And this story freaks me out more than anything.
My sister's friend's parents had planned a vacation. This girl's grandmother was supposed to be watching her and her older brother while her parents were away. But her grandmother got sick, so her parents have to cancel.
Her parents were supposed to be on the flight out of Boston that crashed into the first tower. If her grandmother hadn't gotten sick, if they didn't have to cancel that trip, this girl and her brother would be orphans.
That's so crazy.
It seems like this topic was unavoidable. It's all that's on the news, to the point where I've had to turn it off because I didn't feel like crying anymore. It's so horrible, but it's so important to never forget.
My thoughts are with the families who lost loved ones on this day, and the heros who lost their lives in order to save others. These heroes will never be forgotten. Rest in Peace.