Tears, Songs, Heroism, Memories.

I have been watching the coverage of the memorials for our country's victims from ten years ago today. I have been touched once again by the regency of New York City and the pride of it's people, the dignity of Washington D.C. and the resilience of the citizens there, the rural grace of Shankesville, PA. and the scar left in a field by everyday heroes. I remember so well that day in our history. I have been collecting stories from the staff of our school to put together a book of what we went through that incredible day. I will have more stories soon and then will compile the remembrance's of those of us who had the responsibility of trying to maintain the normalcy of middle school in the most abnormal of days. Ten years of memories as clear as if they were yesterday.

Today I saw and heard the waterfalls at Ground Zero. I do think they must be all the tears that have been shed. The tears of rage, grief, disbelief and for some, gratitude and grace. I always think about the rescue workers doing what they were put on this earth to do. My heart skips a beat when I know that they all did the impossible, trying to put a stop to the carnage however they could. Amazing Grace, indeed.

I understand how that day is what caused our ongoing wars. I still am a pacifist. I still think God, by whatever name you call Him, would not want us to kill each other in His name. I support our efforts to bring peace and I stand behind the men and women whose job it is to do that in whatever uniform they wear. I am grateful to my nephew Nicholas for his service and I pray his long lasting effects from his time overseas will lessen soon. On that fateful day Adam was a New Yorker working for our family's company. He was deeply effected watching the black smoke rise from the city from his vantage point high above and not too far away and he shared his emotions with his cousins. He spent a few nights being the coffee guy with his cousin delivering hot coffee to firefighters because that was all they could think of to do. Here at home I got and took a phone call from Shane who was not sure I knew what was happening. My always event planning Shane organized a way for money to be collected at the establishment he worked at at the time during the following weekend's home football game. It was all he could think of to do. I will forever be proud of those small but extraordinarily selfless gestures that came from their hearts. Mike was the one who told me about the plane in Pennsylvania. His voice, calm as ever, but still filled with the disbelief we all shared.

My memories of the nights following the attack are very vivid. I know that each night for many after I would walk our old dog Sandy into our backyard. I would cry quietly every night and sing God Bless America while looking up into the summer sky, tears streaming down my face. I don't know why I chose that song but it was my tribute to our nationwide pride that grew over the days and the flags flew. I think God was closer for some reason those nights. Lastly in this blog of remembrance is this: Mike and I were married on September the 11th, 1976. Since then we have sometimes struggled with the two anniversaries. We will always remember both. We celebrate quietly but we do celebrate our marriage because if we don't, if we choose to pick another day to raise our glasses in joy to the years we have chosen to spend together, than I believe those terrorists have stolen one more thing from us.