September 11

Some days start off pretty well. You know. Those are the days you get to lay relaxing in bed for an hour before you jump up to do a little something. I don't have a lot of those days in my life right now. I haven't for several years. Perhaps even eleven years.

Eleven years and twenty two days ago, my fourth son was born at 1am-ish. It was an all natural affair since the baby arrived before the doctor. Almost before I arrived at the hospital. It was a bit crazy, but I felt pretty good once it was over.

I mean I'd just, four days earlier, sent my first son off for his first day of kindergarten. The next day I celebrated my 12th anniversary. I can't remember doing anything, but it happened. Then my mom came. My oldest son threw up. I went to church. I went into labor. My water broke. I made it to the hospital in time to have a baby. And I rested from the five year old, the nearly three year old, and the one year old at home.

And then, Monday night, they came to visit. My daughter threw up on the way. By the time I got home pretty much everyone was throwing up, except the new baby and my husband, probably because we'd decided to let him stay at work since my mom was around for a week. Then he'd take time off.

We were all sick. My daughter was so sick she laid on the couch for five days wasting away. I was so sick, I didn't even notice until the fifth day. The doctor's office said not to worry too much. And she lived, so I guess that it doesn't matter that I was not very attentive as a mom.

My mother was so sick on her way home that she only got as far as Ogden, a four hour drive away and about half way to her home, when she had to check into a hotel and sleep and be sick.

I was exhausted. Everyone was run down. But we soldiered on. My son went to school and my daughter started dance class. Her first class at Miss Patty's was September 4 at 9am. It was a huge struggle, getting four children (oldest son had afternoon kindergarten) into the car and to the studio. Then we had to wait patiently for an hour. It was a pain, but I was a mother and this is what mothers do.

The next week, I was trying to get everyone dressed and out the door, when the phone rang. it was my good friend who had recently moved to Texas. She said, "Have you seen the tv? Do you know what is going on?"

I'd barely seen my breakfast. Who has time for the tv?

She told me that a terrible tragedy was occurring and I said, "That is really too bad, but I don't have time for this. I have to go to dance class."

Really one of the worst things to happen to the world in my lifetime and I had no time to stop and ponder it. It makes me sad now to think about how disconnected I was to reality, but it was the only way I could function at that point.

Last year on the tenth anniversary I watched some of the remembrances and couldn't believe the amount of information that I had blocked out during that time.

I remember watching the planes crash into the towers and the cloud of darkness envelope people as the tower came down. I remember the disbelief that a third plane had crashed into the pentagon. I remember the heroism of the people on the last plane. I remember the utter quiet in the air as no planes flew for a few days. And I remember the sadness. The utter sadness that anyone could hate that much. I remember wondering how their mothers felt and suspecting that most of them felt sad too.

I think back on how crazy life was that month. How sad it was. How hard.

I had one more child just under two years later. Then I was done. Which was bittersweet, but essentially good. He doesn't remember the fear and instability of September 11. None of them really do. Perhaps that is for the best.

My life is busy in a new way now. I'm still running kids around. They are still eating up everything I have, but now they are becoming people of their own. People with thoughts, talents, and abilities. People who are beginning to contribute to society. People who help others and spread smiles and joy to the world.

September 11, 2001 was a very hard day. September 2001 was a very hard month. But we made it to the other side. We cried. We mourned. And we survived to carry on...