Can you believe it has been ten years since the World Trade Center fell? Since the day we were all forced to take pause and reflect on our lives. I am baffled that so much time has gone by and I can’t think of where it has gone.
The fear I felt that day was unlike any fear I have ever felt in my life because I was a mother of a two year old son – a new mother and I feared for his future. I questioned whether I had done the right thing by bringing a child into the world when the world was teetering on destroying itself. I mourned for my son because he had only had two years on the Earth before his freedoms had been altered before he even understood what they were.
I remember that day vividly – how it had started out as a picture perfect Bermudaful day – clear blue skies, puffy white clouds and I had set out with my son on our daily walk through St. George totally unaware of the absolute horror that the people in the World Trade Center and in New York, the people on that flight over Pennsylvania, the people in the Pentagon and all the passengers on those doomed flights were going through. I remember feeling so grateful for the beauty I was experiencing as I walked with my son. I remember feeling so fortunate.
Until we walked into the Supermarket in St. George and instantly I knew something was wrong- the air was so thick in there that you could have sliced it with a knife. Instead of the normal lively banter, the supermarket was so silent that you could hear a pin drop. No one looked at the door when I came in. All eyes were glued to the television. It was only then that I realised the magnitude of what was transpiring in the United States. And I knew instantly the repercussions of these senseless terrorist attacks would alter all of our lives forevermore.
I looked down at my innocent son and wanted to cuddle him in my arms and protect him from all the darkness that was befalling our world. I wanted to cry. My son had never watched television before. And I certainly didn’t mean for this to be his introduction but it was and I have regretted that ever since. After coming out of my trance, I turned his stroller around so quickly and headed home as fast as I could. By the time I got there, my husband was there. We had had a horrible fight that morning and had left each other not on the best terms. We looked at each other in disbelief, the argument lost in the horror of the events, exchanged words without speaking then we hugged each other trying to at least preserve the love we had because all else had been shattered.
Now it is ten years later, Osama bin Laden is dead, many soldiers have died, many families have been shattered by the loss of loved ones, I have an eight year old daughter and my twelve year old son has travelled to many places around the world. My daughter knows little about the attacks. My son still carries that image of airplanes crashing into buildings because he hates being on airplanes but doesn’t remember why. And I refuse to remind him that when he was two whenever we boarded an airplane he would say, “Is this airplane going to crash into tall buildings.” We continue to fly so that the terrorists do not win. So that all those lives that were sacrificed for us to resume somewhat normal lives are not lost in vain.
All of us have moved on from September 11 2001 but none of us will ever forget it. I believe that September 11 is a day that allowed us to be grateful for every day that we have had since that day. To be grateful for the fact that we should never take anything for granted. To be grateful for the fact that so much love came out of that dreadful day that somehow the doom and gloom did not destroy us but inspired us all to not let fear stop us from living our lives. And for this I am truly grateful.
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