story7150.xml

story7150.xml

born-digital

story

yes

no

2002-09-13

I am a stay-at-home mom. I am married and have three children of my own. My mornings are usually spent carting kids, bookbags in hand, to school or preschool. September mornings in St. Louis are beautiful with their crisp air and blue skies. Back in September of 2001,life in our suburban home wasn't perfect, but it was everything I'd ever hoped for - a family of my own, a kitchen table in a warm sunny room, food on our table, warm beds at night, a garden in the yard - everything was comfortable, safe. Our kitchen was in the middle of renovation with nothing but some wires and pipes and the micorwave cart holding a small television occupying it. The morning of September 11th, I rushed the kids out the door, repeating " We're late, let's go, come on". I quickly dropped them off at school, which is only 2 blocks away, then headed toward the preschool to drop off my youngest and his buddy. As I walked through the doors I noticed alot of moms standing around watching CNN on the large television that hung from the ceiling in the hallway as you enter the building. These are usually broadcasting "Welcome" messages to the visitors and students. After dropping off the boys, I made my way back to the television and said my goodmornings to the other moms. No one answered. I stared up at the television in disbelief. One of the World Trade Center towers was gushing black smoke. My first thought was- what a horrible accident. Then as we stood listening to the updates, we watched the 2nd plane slam through the other tower. Horror swept through my being. This was no accident. My heart was pounding so loud and hard, I was sure everyone could here it - if not for the sounds of their own hearts racing. Tears started trickling down my cheeks as I began to realize what was happening. On television, at that very moment, all around our world, people were watching their loved ones perish. The wives, husbands, children, grandparents who left their homes that morning, never to return. No second chances to say goodbye or I love you. Suddenly, I thought to myself, "did I kiss my husband goodbye this morning?" Why did I rush my children out the door, and did I kiss them before leaving them for the day?
As the first tower came crashing down, a sick feeling overwelmed me. What was happening to the America that I loved? We were under attack - on our own soil, by an unknown attacker. The second tower crashed as we stood there holding hands, not wanting to believe what we were watching...hoping to wake up and find it was all a bad dream. The director of the preschool asked if we would like to move into the lunch room and say a prayer for those involved. We stood there around a lunch table, 10 or 11 moms holding hands, tears streaming down our wet faces, hearts heavy with sorrow, praying for everything - the victims, their families, the people of New York, our families, just the strength to carry on with our day. It was as if the sorrow and pain in my heart was so heavy, it was waying us down, physically draining our beings. The rest of the day was spent on a folding chair in my torn up kitchen watching CNN and praying. When I picked up my children later that day, the tears cam again as I hugged and kissed them - to their embarassment - in the middle of the parking lot, no longer taking anything for granted. Remembering that horrific day brings still brings that heavy feeling to my chest and lump to my throat. But I will always remember...