I remember the day that this tragedy happened. I remember that it was early morning and we were still in our pajama’s. And I remember thinking it was a strange morning because my Mom had the bedroom TV on and was watching it; something she never did. We came and sat on the bed, sleepy and wondering what was going on. I remember looking at the small screen and seeing a huge building with smoke pouring out of it. I don’t think I felt any emotion towards that scene; but I remember Mom telling me and Kayla that lots of people had die and that we needed to be in prayer for them all. The only other thing I remember was sitting by the love seat and saying a childish pray about it. And that is all I remember of that day.
I know much more about that day now. And it makes me feel very sad. As each anniversary has gone by, I’ve learned more about it. On the different years I’ve heard the conservative talk show hosts talk about it. Two years ago our parents showed us a documentary about it; with the actual footage and everything. It was one of the very rare films in which I cried. I felt so sick seeing the recording of it; not sick in the stomach, but sick at heart. I know I purposefully held all my tears in during the film and then went the restroom and balled–really balled. It was so incrediablly sad but powerful and I was glad I had gotten to watch it. I’m very thankful for all those firemen who were there and helped those people. They were real live heroes.
Today, it’s a decade later. I do not remember any specific days from that year at all. But I still remember 9/11.