I can't believe it's been fourteen years.
Just like most people, I remember September 11, 2001 like it was yesterday. Brenn was just a year old. I was on my way to the babysitter's house when the first plane hit. I remember the confusion about what was going on. I think at that time we weren't sure it was a terrorist attack. And then on my way to work, the second plane hit and it was clear this wasn't an accident.
Very little work happened that day. A lot of time was spent watching the news and trying to wrap our minds around what happened. The news reports...the horrific photographs...it all was so much to take in. I was supposed to go to class at our community college that night, but I rushed to get my son. I didn't want to be away from him for another moment. For days, I was glued to the television...paralyzed by what happened. People jumping from buildings, search and rescue happening among mountains of debris.
I can't even begin to imagine what the families and victims went through.
Today while listening to the radio, it hit me that my son will never understand the emotions of that day. He will never know the terror that filled the hearts of everyone in the United States as we watched our country being attacked.
I'm also afraid that he will never again witness the unity among people no matter race or denomination because of what happened that day. Seeing a vast number of people who searched for answers and as a result filled churches all over the country. I pray that we never forget what happened that day.